Half of Something Else
by melissaeverdeen13
Summary: She's a college student. He's recently divorced. What comes of their one night together will surprise them both.
1. One

KATNISS

As the four of us girls sat on the dark blue sectional couch in the living room, the warmth radiated in from outside through the open windows. It was Labor Day weekend, and in the streets the neighborhood kids were running off the last heat of summer while myself, my sister, and my two best friends pre-gamed for our last free night before classes started up again.

It wasn't as weird as I thought, taking a shot in front of Prim. In fact, when she threw the little glass back, she looked almost more experienced than I did.

I narrowed my gray eyes at her. "Don't get too good at this."

She gave me a crooked smile, her periwinkle eyes alight with mischief. "No, never," she said, and then threw her head back with laughter. She was already tipsy.

I wanted to catch up. I reached out to grab another shot from Johanna, but she pulled her hand away from me. "Slow down," she said, palms up. "We haven't even left yet. You're gonna want to have enough synapses to unlock your phone and call the Uber." She took a strand of my hair between her fingers. "You're already brainless enough dyeing your hair this god-awful red."

"It's auburn," Madge said, standing up for me.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "What the fuck ever," I grumbled, then yanked the tequila out of her grip. "If you'll remember correctly, I just found the love of my life in bed with a Loyola slut."

No one had any objections then. Madge rested a hand on my shoulder in solidarity, but I brushed her off. I didn't want sympathy; I was too angry. I wanted to get drunk and forget about the image of Gale in bed with Clove, a spritely girl who looked strikingly like me, except much younger.

"She could've been 12," I spat. "He's a pig."

"A disgusting pig," Prim said. "You deserve better."

"I know that!" I said, throwing my hands up. "I know that."

"Fuck men," Johanna said, pouring another round of drinks. "Fuck them all. Seriously, Katniss. That's the best way you can get back at him, just start whoring around like crazy."

I raised my upper lip in her direction. "Please," I said. "Why do you think he cheated on me in the first place?"

"Because he's a rat bastard?" Madge asked, giggling into her glass.

"Well, that," I said, taking a tiny cup from Jo. "And because he would always say, oh, Katniss, you're so _pure_ , you're so different from other girls, blah, blah, blah. I had thought it was a good thing. Shows how fuckin' stupid I am."

"Stop it," Prim said, gripping my wrist firmly. "You're not stupid. He's the one who cheated."

"Yeah, you're amazing," Madge said, slurring a bit. She pointed a wobbly finger in my direction. "You. Are. Amazing."

I rolled my eyes and laughed. "Thanks, Madge."

"Okay, I'm done wasting time here with you bitches. I want to fucking dance," Johanna said. "Katniss, call the Uber. We're going."

The Uber was much smaller than we anticipated, so Prim ended up having to sit on my lap. I wrapped my arms around her small waist and rested my temple between her shoulder blades, feeling her breathe in and out rhythmically as the buildings whooshed by on Lincoln Avenue on the way to the Gold Coast.

It had been Johanna's idea to go to Room Seven. As a group, we had been there a couple times before. Even Prim had been there earlier in the summer, and though I'd spent the entire time worrying about her, she'd had a good time.

As we got closer, Prim turned her head so she could talk to me. "Are you okay?" she asked, reaching down and capping a hand over my knee.

"I will be," I said quietly, not wanting the other two to hear. Prim was the only person in the world who I shared my emotions with. I used to try now and again with Gale, but that wasn't really his thing. We were alike in that way. We were alike in a lot of ways. "I just need tonight to kind of, I don't know, make me forget about all this shit."

"He was never good enough for you," she said, sitting sideways so she could look into my eyes. "Really. I always thought that."

"Well, thanks," I said, although her words didn't make me feel much better. Because at one point, he was my everything. We met in our sophomore year at DePaul, where now Prim was going to be a freshman and I was going into my senior year. He was an exercise science major and I was public administration. Our paths would have never crossed if Madge hadn't dragged me to the beginning of the year pep rally where Gale accidentally shoved me over as he roughhoused with the rest of the basketball team outside the gym doors. He gave me a black eye when his elbow hit my face, but for some reason after that we just clicked. I thought he was the one; I really had thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

In fact, two nights before I found him in bed with the homewrecker, we had had great sex. I had no idea that anything was wrong. If someone would have told me that two days later I would find her in the bed that I shared with him at his place, I would've laughed and totally ignored it.

When I found them, he had begged and pleaded with me; pulling on my wrists and insisting that it had been a one-time thing and she meant nothing to him. The look on her face told me that all that was coming from his mouth were more and more lies.

I packed up my stuff right then and left. I hoped I'd never see him again.

"He's a piece of shit, Katniss," Johanna said as we pulled up. "Stop fucking thinking about him, because I know you are."

I frowned and bit the inside of my cheek. It was hard to think of anything else.

We waited in line for a long time before we got to the front and the bouncer let us in. When we got inside, mostly all the lights were off, but the ones that stayed on were blue. They cast a strange light around the place; one that made everything inside seem not totally real. I liked it. I surveyed the area to see if I spotted anyone else I knew, but saw no familiar faces. When I turned back to say something to my group of girls, I found that they had all dispersed; Prim had found someone she recognized from orientation, Johanna was with a girl and Madge was at the bar already chatting up the bartender. And I was left alone. Some friends they were.

I made my way over to the bar that Madge wasn't at and ordered a vodka soda, which I downed as quickly as I could. I took the lime off the rim of the glass and rested it on my napkin off to the side.

"Another one, please," I said, and one appeared in front of me just like that.

I didn't take that one any slower, and as the night passed and I got drunker the little tower of limes I had made became more and more amusing.

My head was resting in one palm and I'd totally lost track of time when I saw a tall, sturdy blonde man walking in my direction. He smiled, and I pivoted around to look behind me to see where the lucky girl that he was looking at was.

When I turned back around, he was chuckling and making his way through more throngs of people. I pointed to myself and mouthed "me?" He nodded.

Holy shit. I felt my palms start to sweat and my heart rate sped up so much that I could feel it from the tips of my toes all the way to the tips of my ears.

Once he made it over to me, he leaned against the bar and stuck his hand out. "I'm Peeta," he said. He gestured to the barstool next to me. "Is this taken?" I shook my head no, and attempted a smile. I suddenly felt conscious of my badly dyed hair, my drunkenness, and my less-than-ideal state of mind. I didn't want to meet him like this, but at the same time I was already picturing him naked.

He sat down next to me and ordered a drink that I couldn't quite hear, then asked me a question I couldn't quite understand. I smiled in response, and then he picked up the top lime from my pile. "You know, these are the best part," he said.

I widened my eyes. "You're fucking crazy," I said. "Help yourself."

He popped the limes in his mouth one by one, discarding the rinds on the same napkin he had taken them from.

At that point, I was too far gone to carry on much more conversation. I didn't want to let him go, though, and the alcohol was making me surprisingly brazen.

I downed the rest of my drink and handed him the lime from it, which he readily took. I noticed that whatever alcohol that had been in his clear glass was gone, too.

"I'm not trying to be forward," I said, shouting over the din of the music. "But I can't hear worth shit, I'm drunk off my ass and I really want to get in a car with you."

A smile broke onto his face and it made my stomach turn. "Thank god you said something," he said, standing up from the barstool and taking me with him. "I had no idea how I was going to say it without sounding like a pig."

PEETA

Upon walking in, I knew I was too old for Room Seven. It hadn't been my idea, it had been Finnick's, though he wasn't younger than me by much. We'd been having a shitty few weeks at work – each new grant writer I hired was dropping like a fly before they could make it a month and the kids we helped were suffering because of it. Boys & Girls Clubs in Chicago need a lot of funding, and that was something that we were not getting. And with the school year pressing down on us, it was crucial that our numbers go back up. It was obvious we needed a night to stop worrying about work, so Finnick roped me, Haymitch and Cato to come out and have a good time.

All I had done so far was drink way too much and ignore everything that they were saying. Nothing was of much intelligence anyway, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of a girl sitting alone at the bar, hunched over her multiple vodka sodas.

She had come in with a group of friends about an hour before; a tall brunette with close-cropped hair and two blondes, one of which looked so much like her in the face that I could only assume that they were sisters. The group dispersed almost immediately and the redhead – I wouldn't even really call her that, it was more of an auburn – sat by herself at the bar. As I drank, it was hard for me to keep track of how many not only I had, but that she had, too.

"Who the fuck are you staring at, Peet?" Cato asked, punching my shoulder. "You've hardly said a single thing all night. Did you go mute?" He waved a hand in front of my eyes.

"Mute people can still see, dumbass."

They all dissolved into a round of cackles at that one.

"Go talk to her," Finnick said, after the laughter died down.

"She's fuckin' sexy," Cato said, inappropriate as usual. "Mm, you can see a little bit of skin on her back there. Damn, Mellark. I didn't know you had a boner for redheads."

"I don't," I insisted, and swigged my drink.

"She's alone. What's the harm?" Finnick asked. "The worst she can say is no."

"I don't need coaching," I said defensively. "I've done this before. Need I remind you, I _was_ married."

"The key word there… _was_ ," Haymitch pointed out.

True. My wife and I were in the middle of a separation that was proving to be quite long and drawn-out, much different compared to how quick TV and movies make divorce seem.

"We all know you need to get back out there," Cato said. "Glimmer was a bitch."

"Cato, come on," I said, giving him a look.

"Okay, okay," he said, putting his hands up. "Sorry. But she was. She was horrible to you, dude."

"She had her reasons," I said. "It was hard on both of us."

"That's totally beside the point," Finnick said, getting up from where he sat to sit next to me on the low couch I was on. "The point is that you want her. _Her_ , that sexy little thing just waiting for you over there."

"Don't be a pig," I said.

"No one's being a pig!" he laughed. "Well, except Cato, but he's always a pig."

Cato nodded, his eyebrows raised.

"You're you. Go up there and charm her. Go home with her or don't. I don't give a fuck. You're a grown man, do what you want. But I'm just saying, you're holding your own self back and you shouldn't be. You're Peeta fucking Mellark, for god's sake."

"Why do I feel like you're giving me a motivational speech?" I asked.

"Because I am," Finnick said, but then rolled his eyes. "If you don't wanna listen, keep on drinking and staring. See if any of us care. But none of us want to see you waste this opportunity of a girl who you've been eye-fucking since she walked in."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and he tipped his head to one side. I knew he was right, that I did need to get back out there. And Jesus Christ, she was beautiful. Even just staring at her back, which I had been doing for most of the night, she was beautiful.

I really wanted her.

I stood up from my chair and the guys cheered, so I turned around and flipped them the bird. That didn't do a thing to discourage them; they just collapsed against each other in a fit of drunken laughter. I was tipsy myself, not totally drunk, but I was definitely feeling all that I had drank throughout the night.

My whole body buzzed as I made my way to her. She had sat up and was looking at me, and I gave her what I hoped was a nice smile. She looked confused, turned around to look behind her, then turned back around and pointed to her chest.

"Me?" she mouthed.

I laughed. She seriously thought that I'd be looking at anyone else in this insufferable club. I nodded and closed the distance between us, leaning on the bar with one elbow when I finally got to her. She smelled fresh and clean, unlike the general scent of this bar, and she was tucking her hair behind her ears over and over again.

"I'm Peeta," I introduced myself with a handshake that I found unnecessary the second after I did it. "Is this taken?" I asked, nodding towards the seat next to her. She shook her head and grinned at me, the corners of her pink lips pulling up just slightly. I sat down on the barstool and ordered a rum and coke, then asked her if she came here often. It was a stupid question, cliché at the very best, but she didn't really answer. She just smiled at me, and I guessed that she probably couldn't hear me.

I saw a pile of about five or six limes that she had made on a napkin, gone completely untouched. I reached across her and picked one up, then said, "You know, these are the best part."

She raised her eyebrows and made a face. "You're fucking crazy. Help yourself."

So I did. I took the limes and sucked the juice from them one by one until only the rinds were left. I could feel both her eyes and all of my friends' eyes on me, watching what I'd do next.

After I was finished with the sour fruit, she sucked down the rest of her drink and looked at me with fire in her eyes; eyes that I couldn't see the color of because of the blue tint to this room.

"I'm not trying to be forward," she shouted over the noise, "but I can't hear worth shit, I'm drunk off my ass and I really want to get in a car with you."

My whole body flooded with a feeling I didn't recognize, but it felt like something close to relief and euphoria. "Thank god you said something," I said, standing up from the stool and wrapping an arm around the small of her back. She was small, but muscular at the same time. "I had no idea how I was going to say it without sounding like a pig."

As we made our way through the thick crowds of people, she kept pace with me and stayed close to my side. I tightened my hand on her opposite hip and noticed how she kept her eyes ahead, not looking back once.

The way she moved was fluid and graceful, like someone who really knew how to use their body. Even the sight of her shoulder blades jutting out of the openings on the back of her dress had me worked up; I couldn't wait to see more of her and I had a feeling it wouldn't be much longer before that happened.

When we got outside, she pulled out her phone to call taxi, but I tried to stop her. "I'll do that," I said, but the look she gave me when I spoke made me stop dialing.

"No, we can go to my place," she said. "I share with my sister, but she won't be home." She pressed the buttons to call the car before I had a chance to object.

I didn't fight her. As we waited for the car, we didn't talk much, but she grabbed my hand and interlaced her fingers together with mine. Her hand was small, so much so that it made me narrow my eyes at her just slightly and ask how old she was.

"I'm 22," she spat, her eyes dancing with a ferocity that I hadn't thought they could possess. "How old are _you_?"

"28," I said, laughing. "Happy now?"

She smiled; slow at first, and then so much so that it lit up her whole face. I practically collapsed to the ground at the sight of it.

Our car arrived only moments later, and by the time it pulled up we were both laughing uncontrollably about something that I couldn't remember saying. Or maybe she said it, I couldn't be sure, but we could hardly catch our breath after we shut the door and zoomed away from the club.

"What about your friends?" I asked, buckling my seatbelt.

She didn't bother with hers. She pushed herself up on her knees and then swung one leg over so she could straddle me. "Fuck them," she said, and planted her lips on mine.

KATNISS

His body under mine in the car felt like nothing I'd never felt before in my life. I couldn't get my hands on him in enough places. I ended up fumbling around and grappling for some part of him to hold onto, and my hands found themselves rooted in his thick, wavy, blonde hair.

He was hard; his dick pressed insistently onto my inner thigh. It only encouraged me. I loved the fact that I had just met this man and had the power to make him hard just like that.

Gale had always taken so long. Every time, he asked me to talk dirty when we both knew that I was no fucking good with words. But every time I'd try, and every time he'd complain that me trying to sound seductive softened his dick more than the thought of his grandma.

With Peeta, I didn't need words.

I pushed my tongue between his lips and he pushed back, keeping up and challenging me in a way that made my heart pound against my chest plate. When our lips broke apart after a hot, heavy kiss, I exhaled shakily into his mouth and he held the back of my head and pulled me back to him, not letting me have a moment's reprieve.

"You taste like limes," I said, smiling.

I couldn't get enough of him. He seemed to know just where to put his hands. One was anchored on the back of my head and the other had a generous grip of my ass under my dress, squeezing the supple skin tight in his callused fingers.

As the car braked at a stoplight, he took the one hand away from my head and planted both of them on my hips with his thumbs pressing into the bones. Our eyes burned into each other; his cheeks were flushed and my body was coated in a sheen of sweat, but we were nowhere near finished.

He kissed the open skin of my chest and slipped one hand back beneath the hem of my dress, running his fingertips over my panties maddeningly gently. "Fuck," he breathed.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight and drew my lower lip between my teeth. I wanted him to touch me – _really_ touch me – so fucking bad. "You're wet."

"I know," I said, and forcefully covered his hand with my own to press him up against me. I set my weight down on his hand and ground my hips, hoping for some sort of friction, but he pulled his hand away. "What…" I sighed.

"We're, um…. 2023 North Bissell?" the driver asked, averting his eyes away from the rearview mirror.

"Oh, yeah," I said, and gathered up my purse. Peeta opened his door and I clambered out, falling onto the pavement in the middle of the residential street because I couldn't keep my drunken self vertical in my heels.

"Shit," I laughed, and Peeta was chuckling too as he pulled me to my feet. The Uber sped away and I led the way up the stairs, ankles wobbling, and unlocked the door.

The apartment was still and quiet; I was the only one home and probably would be for a few more hours. Judging by the clock on the mantel, it wasn't even midnight and I knew that Prim would want to stay out late.

I kicked off my heels and Peeta cast his shoes off, too, and then I pulled him down the hall to my room. It was right across from Prim's; her door was wide open and I could see the streetlights showcasing the light pink walls. I opened up my room and then shut the door behind us, and backed Peeta up against the nearest wall.

I smiled devilishly at him and then began to undo the buttons on his shirt, one by one, uncovering more of his skin as I went along. I pressed one hand against his chest and felt his heart beating through his skin, then ran my fingers up through his chest hair to land gently around his neck.

"You're fucking beautiful," he said to me when I shucked his shirt away from his shoulders.

"Shut up," I said, and worked on his belt. Once I got his pants off of him, he pulled me back to a standing position and yanked my black dress off over my head so I stood before him in a red lacy thong and matching bra.

He drank the sight of me in; I could see his eyes working over my entire body, pausing between my legs and of course, at my chest. "Jesus," he muttered, and walked me backwards toward the bed.

When the insides of my knees hit the mattress, I let my body collapse with them. He crawled overtop of me and opened his mouth against mine, parting his lips and inviting my tongue in, which I readily accepted. I skimmed my hands down his body and then slipped them under the waistband of his boxers so I could grab his ass, and was met with a grunt of approval once I did so. He ground his hips against mine – fabric against fabric – and I whimpered into his mouth.

"I'm gonna need you to fuck me," I said, throwing my head back as he licked a path down my jaw all the way to my bellybutton. He unclasped my bra and dragged his teeth over my nipples, which hardened them to pebbled peaks. My whole body had chills. He took as much of my breast into his mouth as he could and sucked hard, which made my eyes roll back into my head and my hips involuntarily buck against whatever part of him was closest; it just happened to be his thigh.

"I can't…keep dry humping…your leg all night, Peeta," I breathed as he continued to work his mouth against my breast. "Take your shorts off."

He didn't obey; his lips curled in a sly smile and he kissed his way down to the impossibly low waist of my underwear. He pulled them off and I curled my legs up to help him, and he shoved them back down by my knees and pulled my thighs apart.

Gale only ever ate me out on my birthday. Sometimes on other holidays, too, but it was rare. Really rare.

I had almost forgotten what it felt like. Even so, what Gale had attempted to do never felt like what Peeta was capable of.

He held my quivering thighs apart with his hands and ravished me with his tongue, closing his lips around my clit as I screamed and begged for him to keep going. I was panting, squeezing against his hands with the muscles in my legs as hard as I could, but I was no match. My hips thrusted into the air, searching for something to push against, and he followed my movements with his face. When I came, he went at me harder and sucked my clit between his teeth as hard as he could – so hard that I screamed his name until my voice cracked at the top.

He didn't give me a rest once he was finished, either. He pulled his boxers off and slung my knees over his shoulders, then pushed inside me with no warning.

I hadn't gotten a chance to look, but I didn't need to see him to know for a fact that he was well-endowed. He filled me to the point where I thought I might burst. My walls clenched around him as he pumped inside me, pinning my arms down by my wrists. His body was powerful, full of sinewy muscle and confidence, and I let myself be taken over by him as he had his way with me.

With my eyes closed, I felt him use his thumb to rub my clit in tight circles. "Oh, Peeta," I whimpered, letting my legs fall open further to either side.

He moved our bodies around so he was sitting and I was on top of him, my chest at his eye-level. As I undulated my hips over his, he covered my breast with his mouth and closed his eyes when I made him come for the first time that night. He closed his teeth over my breast, but that only made my orgasm come faster and harder. I collapsed against him, pressing every bare part of my body against his, and felt the most intimate parts of us mix together.

I was out of breath and spent by the fifth time he made me come, and so was he. It had gotten late, almost 4 o'clock in the morning, by that time I found my way into his arms and fell asleep with my head against his chest and his hands mapping the small expanse of my back.

I woke up about an hour later feeling unrested yet completely alert. My legs were buzzing with the need to move, and I felt constricted wrapped up in Peeta's strong arms. I gently lifted them away from my body and then covered my chest from the cool draft coming from the slider doors. I rustled around in my dresser and found a t-shirt shaped nightgown to slip on along with a pair of much more modest underwear than I had been wearing just hours before.

I sat on the edge of the bed and saw that Peeta had left his wallet sitting there, right out in the open. I glanced at him to make sure he was still asleep, and when I saw that he was, took the wallet and opened it. It was nice material, he had a good amount of cash in there, too, along with a couple pictures. The first one was a shot of a birthday party for a little kid who was obviously his niece; she was sitting on what had to be Peeta's brother's lap and Peeta was smiling off to the side. The next slot was empty, and then the third one was of him and a tall, blonde woman. An engagement photo of the two of them on the beach, silhouetted by the fading sunlight, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

I let the wallet fall back down to my nightstand with a soft clapping sound. I frowned at it, feeling confused and fuzzy over what it could mean. I was still a little drunk, and my synapses weren't connecting right.

Just as I was about to lay back down, his phone buzzed. Once, twice, three times, and the consecutive texts just continued. To shut it up, I right swiped the screen and it came instantly to life, not protected by any sort of passcode. It was a contact under the name of "Finnick" asking where he was, and whose house he ended up at. I silenced the ringer and convinced myself that it was a slip of the finger that sent me to his camera roll.

There were hundreds of pictures of the same tall, blonde woman dispersed throughout his photos; both by herself and with him. Her posing with a zucchini at the farmer's market, standing on the El platform as the train went by, hair flying, a selfie of the two of them in front of the Bean. I scrolled all the way back to the beginning of his photos, and she was still there. Remnants of her had died away by more recent ones, but only by a little bit.

At this point, I'd started to get angry. She was obviously an important figure in his life to make such a prevalent impact on both his camera roll and his wallet. I found the Facebook app on his phone, tucked away with other social media in a folder of the same name, and clicked on his profile. Under his name, it said "Lives in Chicago, Illinois" and "Married to Glimmer Mellark". By then, I was seething. I exited out of Facebook and slammed his phone back on the bedside table, then turned back around in bed and kicked him hard in the side.

"Huh?" he sat up halfway and rubbed his eyes, looking confusedly in my direction. "What're you doing?"

"You need to go," I growled, and threw both his wallet and phone at him. They bounced off of his chest and landed heavy on the mattress in front of him.

He ran his hand through his thick hair. "Why?"

I crossed my arms. "Won't your wife want breakfast in the morning?" I asked, sitting back on my knees across from him.

He sighed, shaking his head. "No, it's not like that-"

"I don't care what it's _like_. Get the fuck out of my apartment or I'm calling the cops."

He swung his legs over the bed so his feet hit the floor with a soft tapping sound. "Jesus Christ," he said, bending over to grab his boxers and pants. "Okay." He stumbled in the direction of the door, still off-balance from being drunk, shoving his pants on at the same time.

"Fuck you," I said under my breath after I heard the front door shut. "Fuck, fuck, fuck you."

I stood beside my bed for the longest time, just staring at the empty spot where Peeta had just been, arms crossed and fuming. The digital alarm clock read 5:04am.

I was just about to lay back down when I heard a small voice come from the hallway. "Katniss?"

I lifted my chin and saw Prim standing in my doorway, her hair a mess, dressed in pajama shorts and a ratty camisole. She was squinting even in the low light, rubbing her eyes and looking confused.

"Go back to bed, Prim," I said, stepping to her and turning her shoulders towards her room. "Everything's fine."

"Who left?" she asked, planting her feet so I couldn't guide her anywhere.

"I'll tell you in the morning," I said. "You're still drunk and it's 5am."

Prim groaned. "I'm coming to sleep with you. My room's cold."

I didn't fight her, I just sighed in defeat as she led the way into my room. Before she got in bed, she dug around in my closet and found a knitted afghan, which she then spread out over the mattress so she could lay on top of it. She tottered up and down the side of the bed, smoothing out the bumps, and then crawled under the covers on the side that Peeta had just been in. The sheets were crinkled and the comforter was bunched on the floor, so I picked it up and snapped it over the mattress then got in beside my sister. When I laid my head down on the pillow, her eyes were closed and she was breathing rhythmically, already asleep.


	2. Two

**Word to the wise – this chapter contains sensitive content.**

 **TW: mention of abortion.**

 **KATNISS**

I woke up the next morning feeling a warm body next to me. Initially unable to remember what all transpired, I expected to turn over and find Peeta there on his back, peacefully asleep. My stomach even jumped at the thought.

But as the seconds passed and I became more oriented, I remembered that he was gone and the person nestled behind me was much smaller and also not a man. I turned over and saw my sister lying there on her side so she was facing me, her hands tucked up by her face and her chapped lips parted just slightly. In the morning light, I could see that she didn't do a great job of washing off her makeup from last night, but I knew that her skin wouldn't suffer because of it. If I did that same thing, I'd wake up with a horde of pimples everywhere imaginable.

I rolled onto my side so I could face her and then slowly swiped her hair out of her face, petting it back like I used to do when she was a little girl. Right then, she did look little, and I could hardly believe that she would start college in just a couple days. It seemed like yesterday that she was tagging along everywhere I went; soccer practice, sleepovers, choir concerts, trying to be just like me.

Prim pressed her eyes shut tighter as she stirred and smacked her lips together. "Water," was the first word that came out of her mouth.

"I got you," I said, and handed her the glass on my nightstand. She sat up, drank it greedily, then laid back down with a thump.

"Ugh, my head," she moaned, resting on her back and holding her temples between her hands.

"What time did you get home last night?" I asked, turning over on my back too.

"I can't remember. Maybe 2 or 3?" she said. "I heard you. Both of you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice on edge. I asked even though I knew perfectly well what she meant.

"You and whoever you took back here. You were loud as _hell_."

"I didn't think you'd be home. I kind of…forgot. I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"It's fine. You don't have to apologize. I'm just confused because of the whole door slamming in the middle of the night thing. I thought _you_ were leaving."

"No," I said, the taste in my mouth turning sour as I thought about it. "No, he left."

"Why? I wouldn't have cared if he was here in the morning," she said, peeping one blue eye open at me.

"It wasn't that," I said.

"Then what was it?" she pressed.

"It doesn't matter," I grumbled. "I just like to pick guys that are going to fuck me over."

"Well, I heard the fuck part…" Prim said quietly.

"Prim, Jesus," I said, elbowing her weakly. "Don't."

She tittered lightly. "Sorry. But what do you mean?"

I debated whether or not to tell her. Harboring the secret within myself made me feel sick, but at the same time I didn't want my angelic sister to judge me and the type of shitty men I continued to pick. Well, more like the shitty men that continued to pick _me_.

"Katniss, come on," she said, "you can tell me anything."

"Fine. He's married." I spit it out, hoping it would be easier that way. We laid there in silence after I said it, the words hanging maliciously above our heads.

"Wait, what?" she asked, in disbelief.

"Stop it. You heard me."

"Yeah, but… _god_ ," she said. I had my eyes closed but I could feel her shaking her head. "Wow. That's low."

"Way to make me feel great. Thanks, Prim."

"No, no! Not low for _you_ , you didn't know. Low for _him_."

"Apparently I have a thing for cheaters," I said.

"You didn't know, though," she said, "it's not your fault." She cleared her throat, smacked her lips and reaching for the water again. After a long sip, she said, "how did you find out? Did he come right out and say it…? Or what?"

"I couldn't sleep. I was snooping," I admitted.

"Oh," she said. "Well, at least your lurking skills were on your side this time."

"I guess," I said. "You could kind of look at it that way." There was another long silence between us. "You know what, I don't think I ever even told him my name."

She shrugged. "Well, better for you. What was his?"

"Peeta," I answered. "Don't know his last name. But…Peeta."

"Weird name," Prim said, sitting up and stretching her arms high above her head. "I'm sorry, Katniss." She was quiet for a moment, staring down at her perfectly filed fingernails and trying to find something more to say. "Maybe you should stay single for a while. You know, just to figure things out."

"I'm off men for the rest of my life," I said, scoffing. We both knew that wasn't true, but it felt affirming to say out loud.

"School is about to start. It's the perfect time to be single," she said with a smile. "You won't have any distractions."

"That's true," I said, nodding.

"You'll find someone right when you aren't looking," she said, leaning forward to give me a big hug. "Just watch."

For the next two days, I spent my time getting organized for school. I went to the bookstore and picked up my books, the first time in my entire academic career doing so before classes actually started, and set them all out in order. I packed my bag for the first day and looked at a map of campus with Prim, marking with dots the buildings that she would be going to on Wednesday, when the first day of school came.

On Tuesday night, when the two of us were parked in front of the TV watching a _Catfish_ marathon, the doorbell rang over and over again. Prim looked at me confusedly, but got up to answer it. When she was at the door, she called back, "it's Madge and Jo!"

They all made their way into the living room, slumping down on the couch between Prim and me.

"Nice to see _you_ again," Johanna sneered, raising her eyebrows at me. "All but disappeared on Saturday night. We thought you died."

"Dead people can still receive phone calls," I said, my tone snarky. I lifted my phone and wagged it back and forth as if to prove my point.

"We didn't think you were dead," Madge said. "But you did leave without telling us."

Prim and I exchanged a glance. "I went home with a guy," I admitted.

"Good for fucking you!" Johanna said, without any sarcasm. She clapped her hands together a few times and threw her head back in gleeful laughter. "Fuck you, Gale."

I cracked a smile.

"Was he cute?" Madge asked. I met Prim's eyes again; she was biting the inside of her cheek.

"Yeah, he was really, really cute," I said, letting myself remember him for just a moment. His chiseled jaw, defined shoulders and pecs, cobalt blue eyes and thick, blonde hair.

"So you two've been holed up here, fucking like animals this whole weekend. _That's_ why you haven't shown your face," Johanna said, a finger pointed in the air. "All makes sense now. You could've just told us, Kat. We've all been there. Wait, shit, is he here right now?" She looked around like he might pop out from behind the armchair in the corner. "Tell me he is! I want to meet him."

"Shut the fuck up, Jo," I said, maybe a bit too forcefully. She looked at me with hooded eyes and hunched her back to let her shoulders hit the couch again. "He's not here."

"Okay…" Madge said, tipping her head. "I'm confused."

"You're being really fucking cryptic and you should know that I hate it," Johanna said.

"If you'd let me get a word in edgewise, I wouldn't have to be cryptic," I snapped.

"Well, look who's in a great mood," Jo said, making a grand gesture with her hands. "I'm so glad we came over, Madge."

"He was married, all right?" I said, standing up. I realized I was being dramatic, but I couldn't stop. It was coming out of nowhere. "He had a picture of he and his wife in his wallet, there were tons in his camera roll, and he was listed as 'married' on Facebook. I looked. I saw everything. I kicked him out at like, 5am, after we'd already had sex."

"Oh, god, how many times…" Johanna asked, her eyes wide.

"A lot of times," I answered. "A lot of times. And I've just come to realize that I'm attracted to cheaters who don't give a shit about me."

"Oh, Katniss," Madge said.

"Don't 'oh, Katniss' me, please, Madge," I said. "I'm over it. I'm done with it. I just want to get this school year going and forget about it." I had predicted they would react just in the way they both had; sympathy from Madge and biting sass from Jo.

"It wasn't her fault," Prim cut in.

"I know," Madge and Johanna said at the same time.

"I'm off men. I hate them all," I said, sitting back down on the arm of the couch. "I'm going to live the rest of my life chaste. As a nun. Or maybe become a lesbian. I don't fucking know. All I know is that I hate men."

"Okay, Katniss," Madge said.

"Don't knock the lesbian thing until you try it," Johanna said smugly.

We all ignored her.

"I can't believe that a guy would be able to sit with himself, _knowing_ that he has someone else at home probably sitting up waiting for him-" Madge began, but I cut her off.

"Madge, really," I snapped. "I already feel bad enough."

"Oh, no, I wasn't saying _you-_ "

"I don't want to hear it. Talk about it, I mean, I just don't want to talk about it."

"It's over," Prim said.

"Right," I agreed. "It's over. It happened and my life sucks. Everyone gets that. I just want to move on."

So I did. Or at least I tried.

On the first day of school, my stomach was anxious and jittery. This was my fourth first day, there wasn't anything new about it from the classmates I had to the rooms I was learning in, but still. It was that new feeling all over again.

I stepped out of my room dressed in a black and white striped dress to see Prim examining herself in the hall mirror. She was wearing a pink skirt that she had made high-waisted, a white camisole and a cropped jean jacket. "You look so cute," I told her, and gave her a kiss on the head.

"Thanks," she said, pulling at the material. "Are you sure? It doesn't look like I'm trying too hard?"

"Everyone tries too hard here," I said, laughing as I made my way to the kitchen. "It's like, a DePaul thing to look like you're on the runway every second of every day. While at the same time, pretending you didn't try at all."

Prim widened her eyes. "Sounds fun."

"Don't worry about it," I said, tossing her a banana. "On the days you have your 8am class downtown, it'll be harder for you to care. Then you'll see that it doesn't _really_ matter."

She sighed and sat down at the breakfast bar. "What's your first class today?" she asked.

I pulled the screenshot of my schedule up on my phone. "Um…my senior capstone. What about you?"

"Composition and rhetoric," she said, furrowing her blonde eyebrows. "That doesn't sound very fun." It was a general elective that all freshmen had to take, even ones in the Nursing Program like Prim.

"It is if you have the right professor," I said. "You'll like it."

We walked out of the house together, locked it up and headed towards campus. I was going to the Arts and Letters building, and Prim had to head into the Levan Center across the street.

Before I could start walking away, she grabbed my wrist. "We'll meet up after this class for lunch, right? In the Student Center, right there?" She pointed behind her to a building that said "DePaul University Student Center" in giant letters that were impossible to miss.

"Yes, Prim," I said, smiling. "You're going to do just fine. Everyone is as nervous as you are. Probably more, actually, since they don't have a pro showing them the ropes."

She let out a rattled sigh. "True."

"So… just go do your thing. You'll be great, and you'll love it. I'll see you after." I gave her a peck on the cheek and then waved her goodbye as I headed into the building that housed most of my classes.

Both of our first days went well, and that feeling spread its way into the entire week. After Week 1 passed, the rest always fell in line and flew by at warp speed. And while that would normally be a good thing, the quarter system that DePaul that made its terms 10 weeks instead of 16, made the workload that much more stressful.

At around Week 6, I was feeling the brunt of it. It was midterm season, and my stomach never seemed to be completely settled.

"Morning," Prim said. It was a Saturday and the rain was coming down relentlessly, matching my mood.

I grunted a response. I had been sitting at the table for two hours already, going over study sheets.

"How are you?" she asked, plopping down across from me and pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

"All right. Not great," I said, my eyes still glued to my computer. I felt my stomach turn like I was about to throw up, and reached one arm below the table to hold it.

"How's your stomach?" she asked, eyeing the placement of my hand.

"Hurts," I said. "A lot of stress. These midterms are kicking my ass."

"It's Saturday, Katniss," Prim said, munching on her breakfast. "Take a break. I don't want you getting an ulcer."

I shot her a look. "It's not an ulcer. It's just nerves."

"I don't think so," she said. "Either way, you should be smart enough to listen to your own body."

I flicked my eyes away from her back to my lit-up screen. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it. This test is on Monday. What am I gonna do, fall asleep on the screen and hope the information transfers to me through osmosis?" I snapped. A wounded look appeared on my sister's face and I suddenly felt guilty for taking out my mood on my her. "I'm sorry, Prim. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. I've been a cranky bitch with this stomach issue."

"Just give it a rest," she said, and pressed her fingers to the back of my laptop screen so it closed gently. "Just for today. Go back at it tomorrow, maybe then you'll feel better."

I sighed and rested my chin down on my fists. "You're probably right."

"Do you want me to invite Madge and Jo over? We might have fun. Take your mind off it."

I shook my head. "I can't handle them right now. Maybe a different day."

Prim nodded and placed her spoon in her milk-filled bowl. "I'll get you some cereal." She stood up from the table, but I stopped her.

"No, no, it's okay," I said. "It doesn't sound that great to me. I can make myself toast."

She nodded and shrugged, and we walked into the kitchen together so she could put her dishes away and I could have some breakfast. At the sink, she accidentally bumped into me and her elbow came up and hit my braless chest.

"Ouch, Jesus," I said through gritted teeth, cupping my breasts in both hands.

"I'm sorry," she said, setting her dishes down. "I'm sorry!"

"No, no, it's fine," I said, holding them tightly still. "I don't know why that hurt that bad. Jesus, they're really tender. Maybe I'm about to get my period."

I hadn't had my period for a while, but it wasn't uncommon for it to be irregular. I never bothered to keep track of it because it was always unpredictable.

"Could be," Prim said, and walked back out to the table.

I made myself toast with an egg, and was looking forward to enjoying it until I walked out to the table and got a whiff of all that sat on my plate. My stomach churned and I bolted up from my chair and jetted into the bathroom, where I spewed seemingly everything I had ever eaten into the sink. I hadn't been able to reach the toilet.

"Are you okay?" Prim asked, rushing to my aid. She pulled my hair back from my shoulders and wiped my face with a damp cloth as best she could. I stood there with my weight braced forward on my arms and my eyes locked with themselves in the mirror, harboring an expression I didn't recognize as my own.

This was more than nerves. My body was trying to tell me something, and I got the notion that it had been trying for weeks now.

"No," I said aloud, although I hadn't meant to.

"You're not okay?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch.

"No," I said again, "well, yeah, for right now in this moment I'm okay. But no, in the big picture as in my entire life, no. No, I'm not okay."

"Katniss, you're scaring me," Prim said, backing the tiniest of distances away from me.

My voice shook. "Well, I'm scared, too."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, but as I turned my head slowly to face her, we both knew.

A week later, Prim and I were sitting on the bus headed home from Northwestern Memorial. I was wearing leggings and a baggy sweatshirt even though the temperature was in the low 80s. The sunglasses that covered half my face made up for the rest of my out-of-season outfit.

"It'll be okay, Katniss," she said, resting her hand on my hunched shoulders.

I was sitting with my elbows on my knees, leaned forward in the handicapped seating at the front of the bus. I was qualified to use it now; Prim too, by association.

"No, it won't," I said lowly.

"We'll figure something out. We always do."

I sighed, long and defeated. "I don't know about that this time."

I was pregnant. From what the doctor could see, about six or seven weeks along. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and lurched forward, feeling nauseas from the bumps and constant stops of the bus.

"I'm not ready to be a mother," I said, my voice growing teary. "I can't do this."

My sister's hand moved in slow, comforting circles as I began to cry. I covered my face with my hands and wiped my tears away with the sleeves of my hoodie. Being that it was Chicago and there were much crazier people than me in public on a daily basis, no one stared.

"I'm here, I'm here," she said, and pulled me to her side. I rested my head on her shoulder and sobbed, pulling my hood up and cinching the string so as little of my face showed as possible.

When we got off the bus and walked the distance to our apartment, Prim held my hand. I felt sick not only from the tossing and turning of my stomach, but also due to the thought that there was a growing human inside me, sucking away at my energy and common sense. But apparently I hadn't had much common sense before the baby, either.

When we got home, I took the sweatshirt off and collapsed on the couch in my bra and leggings; I laid staring at the ceiling, my face devoid of any expression or feeling.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do now," I whispered. Prim was putting about in the kitchen, running the water for tea. When she came out and joined me, she set our steaming mugs on the coffee table and sat at my feet, pulling my legs onto her lap. I could feel her eyes on my stomach, but I didn't snap at her like my first instinct told me to.

"Does it look any different?" I asked.

I could tell she wasn't sure what answer I wanted to hear. She was stammering, searching for the right words.

"Just say it."

"Yes," she blurted. I felt her fingertips tentative on my skin. "Softer. Does it feel different?"

The tears leaked out of my eyes and rolled down my temples, into my ears. "Yes," I wept. "Prim, what am I going to do?" I covered my face and let myself cry. "I wish Dad were here. He would know what to do."

There was a moment of somber silence between us as we both wished hard that our parents were still around. But I'd been taking care of us for almost five years now, and this was just something else that I was going to have to figure out on my own.

"I'm not ready to be a mom," I said. My voice was shaking in a way I had never heard before. "I can't go through with this."

I flicked my gaze down from the ceiling into Prim's glass blue eyes. "I'll support you with whatever you choose to do," she said, and gripped my fingers tight within hers.

"I'm a student. This is my last year here," I said, desperately searching for reason. "I'm 22. I don't even have a job right now. And…and…" The tears came back, this time more forcefully. "I don't even know who the father is."

The statement hit me like a slap in the face. I had sex with Gale mere days before sleeping with Peeta; there was no way to know for sure. And now that I wasn't on speaking terms with either of them, it placed me in an even more impossible situation.

"Oh, Katniss," Prim said quietly.

"If the baby is Gale's…" I sobbed, recalling the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed at Room Seven just days after we'd been intimate for the last time. "If the baby is his... I can't do this, Prim. I can't have this baby."

She nodded stoically. "I'll call Family Planning."

As I laid in my bed the night before my appointment, I could barely close my eyes. Whenever I did, all I could see was the creature inside me that within hours, I would be murdering.

I'd always been pro-choice when it came to abortion. I thought that women should have the right to choose, and I still thought that. But I never thought that it would happen to me. I never thought I would have to make the conscious choice to end someone's life. Even more, someone's life who I had complete control over. Who was depending on me to create them.

I gritted my teeth and tried to count my breaths so they'd come easier. It had taken Family Planning two weeks to find a slot for me, so in that time I had grown to be eight weeks pregnant. Two months along. My body was changing; my middle was softer, my breasts were growing, and my hair was thriving. I found myself lingering at the baby aisles in Target and then forcing myself to walk away. That wasn't my life. There was no way that I was going to make it my life.

I didn't have room for a child. I had barely started my senior year of undergrad, and I wanted to start my career immediately after graduating. With a schedule like that, I wouldn't have time to be taking care of a baby. It would be selfish of me to keep it.

During the third hour I was lying there awake, I heard my door creak open slowly. I propped myself up on my elbow and saw Prim in the doorway, her billowy t-shirt floating due to the breeze coming from my fan.

"You're awake," she whispered, padding over to the bed. She sat on the side of it and rested one hand on my shoulder.

"I can't sleep," I said, defeated. "I can't stop thinking about it."

"Me, neither," Prim said.

I glared up at her from where I was laying. "Well, you're not the one about to get a fetus extracted from you tomorrow, but okay."

She recoiled from my words. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Well, that's what I heard," I snapped.

"Katniss-"

"I just want to be alone," I said, possibly the first time ever to my little sister. But it was true; I could hardly look at her. For some reason, she was making me feel so guilty that I could hardly see straight.

"Oh…okay," she said, the pitch of her voice rising like tears were imminent. I couldn't even find it within myself to feel bad that I'd hurt her. "See you tomorrow."

"See you," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," she peeped, standing halfway out of the door.

I rolled over and didn't respond.

The next morning, my eyes were swollen and my body tired and creaky from the lack of sleep I had gotten the night before. When I climbed out of bed, the wood floor beneath my feet was cold and the shiver ran up through my whole body, making me wrap my arms around myself to keep warm.

The house was silent. Over my pajamas, I pulled on my robe and thick socks and padded my way down the hallway to the kitchen where I made myself a cup of tea and drank it slowly, sitting on the counter. Prim wasn't awake yet and wouldn't be for a few more hours.

After I was finished, I hopped down from the counter and set my empty mug down in the sink, knowing what I had to do. I picked up the pace and got dressed quickly without bothering to shower; I just threw my hair up in a messy bun and found clean leggings and a baggy gray DePaul sweatshirt to wear. These clothes, especially under my coat, would hide me when I felt the shame from what I was about to do.

When I closed the door behind me, I made sure the click of the lock hardly made a sound at all. Prim was a relatively light sleeper, and the last thing I wanted to do was wake her. She would be really upset with me when I got back, but it was the price I was willing to pay to get this done alone.

As I sat on the Brown Line and stared down at the dirty floor, I was in tune to every natural process of my body. My heart was beating quickly, breaths coming uneven, stomach upset with nerves. My hands were clammy and the inside of my mouth was dry, and I couldn't bear to make eye contact with any other passengers. It felt like everyone knew where I was headed, and they were all looking down on me for it.

When I attempted to ignore the awful way my body was feeling and think about something else, the only thing that would come to mind was my father's face.

He died in a car crash when I was 17. Prim was barely 13. He had been at a holiday party for his work and on the way home, a car coming the other way misjudged the distance as they passed a semi. Everyone involved was killed on impact. There wasn't much of Dad to bury, but we'd had a funeral anyway.

Mom disappeared a few days later, leaving me with my preteen sister and no warning whatsoever. We woke up on a Saturday morning to an empty house and no note.

We were wards of the state for a while; only until I came of age a few months later and then could adopt my sister. She was legally mine, and I'd acted as her mom for the most formative years of her life, but I would never qualify myself as a mother. We were sisters. We both took care of each other. It was a balanced, symbiotic relationship.

We'd survived off of Dad's life insurance money and would be able to continue for a while, but it wasn't enough to support a baby, too.

I didn't have any example of how to be a good mother. I never planned on being one; not after my own left, at least.

Before she was gone, I had always been closer to our dad, anyway. He used to take me out on Lake Michigan in a speedboat and let me drive over the choppy waves once I was old enough, my long braids flapping behind my head as we skimmed over the water. He taught me everything I knew.

The one thing I could never get the hang of was cooking. _Promise me that someday, you'll get someone else to teach your children to cook_ , he used to say.

I smiled as I recalled the memory, but tears sprang to my eyes at the same time. As I got older, he used to tell me how I good I was with Primrose and how lucky my future kids were going to be. His eyes would sparkle when he'd talk about it, even though I'd get shy and quiet when he'd bring it up.

He had always wanted to see me become a mother and now he wasn't going to see me become anything. He was dead and I was on my way to aborting a fetus that shouldn't have ever been mine.

When I got off the train, mist was coming down in translucent sheets. I pushed my hands deep into the pockets of my coat and ducked my head low, walking the six blocks from the Washington and Wells train stop to Family Planning, where I'd have to sit for an hour or so until my appointment time came around.

The clinic was quiet when I walked through the doors. I wrote my name down on a check-in sheet and filled out a form about myself and my pregnancy as I sat in one of the uncomfortable lobby chairs. I gnawed on my lower lip, not shying away even when I tasted the iron tang of my own blood. I had to do this. There was no room in my life for a baby, a toddler, a child.

I was too selfish for any of that.

My mother and I didn't speak much even when she was around. She had been closer to Prim and our personalities didn't mesh. I was too harsh for her; I refused to roll over and let the world have its way with me. I took life head-on, which was something she never understood.

Once, when they thought I was asleep, I heard my parents talking as I crouched at the top of the stairs. They were in the kitchen, talking over the coffee they'd sometimes have after Prim and I went to bed. I was probably eight years old.

Her words have never left my mind.

 _She's just so rough. I don't understand how a child like her could've possibly come from me. Everything she does is for herself. She has never let me baby her. I think that there's something so selfish about that._

My dad had countered her and stood up for me. Even over the passive, harmless tone, her words hurt me. I retreated to my room, gut sinking, wondering if what she said really was true. I had never qualified myself as a selfish person before that moment, but since that night when I was up too late and heard what my mother really thought about me, I did.

My stomach growled. I had forgotten to eat and I felt faint; my head feeling light and dizzy. I was suddenly doubting that I could go through with this, even though I knew it was what I had to do.

I was too selfish to raise a child, especially a child whose father's identity I wasn't even sure of, and that might very well turn out completely unhealthy because of my irresponsible decisions.

On the other hand, though, the baby might be totally fine.

It might be Peeta's child; married Peeta, with the golden blonde hair and sky blue eyes. The sex between us had been just as unprotected as the sex a few days prior I'd had with Gale. The odds were the same; I had no way of knowing.

I clicked my pen rhythmically and closed my eyes, picturing the beautiful baby that would come of Peeta and me. My hair, his eyes. Maybe she'd be able to sing.

I pictured mine and Gale's child after; a sullen, dark-featured little thing whose smiles came rarely, but when they did they'd light up his face.

I cleared my throat to keep myself from choking on my own tears, but it did no good. I started crying anyway, wiping at my eyes with the frigid heels of my hands. There was a baby inside of me; one that would grow into a child with a personality. A real person.

Even as my body shook, I flipped to the next page of the packet of papers on my clipboard. The next one I came to described the process of abortion, and I forced myself to read it.

 _Your health care provider will examine your uterus. You will get medicine for pain. A speculum will be inserted into your vagina. Your health care provider may inject a numbing medication into or near your cervix. The opening of your cervix may be stretched with dilators – a series of increasingly thick rods. You will be given antibiotics to prevent infection. A tube is inserted through the cervix into the uterus. Either a handheld suction device or a suction machine gently empties your uterus. Sometimes, an instrument called a curette is used to remove any remaining tissue that lines the uterus._

My shaky hands dropped the clipboard and it clattered to the floor, which caught the attention of the receptionist sitting behind the tall, oval-shaped desk. I jolted up from my chair, refused eye contact, and shoved my way through the glass doors to bluster out of the building.

I didn't know if what I'd done in leaving proved my mother wrong, or qualified me as more selfish than ever.


	3. Three

**PEETA**

Finnick was in the passenger's seat of my car as we pulled up into my apartment complex, Marina City, in the Loop. I parked in the garage and kept light conversation up with my friend as we got into the elevator and headed up to my apartment so he could borrow some gym clothes of mine. There was a gym located right inside the building, so we didn't have to go far.

"All I'm saying is that the golf outing was a huge hit last year, so I'm thinking we should do two this year," Finnick said, leaning on the wall as I unlocked my front door.

"I don't know right now," I said, digging in the mailbox. "I don't want to think about it right this second. Tomorrow, the moment I step foot into that office, yes. I will gladly think about it. But now, no. Now it's home time."

Finnick laughed and made himself comfortable on my couch as I leafed through the mail. Bill, bill, cell phone provider ad; nothing of much importance. As I was setting the envelopes down on the small table by the door, my cell phone began to ring in my back pocket.

I answered the call, recognizing the number of my social worker; the one assigned to my adoption case.

"Hi, Effie," I said cordially, setting my keys down alongside the mail and loosening my tie.

"Hi, Peeta," she said. I could hear in her voice that something wasn't right. She was usually much happier than this, always very enjoyable to talk to.

Over the past two years, she'd been trying to fit both Glimmer and I with an adoptive family that would work for us. After we split, it wasn't as easy to find a birth mother who was equally as happy with letting a single father raise her child, so the search had grown more difficult.

But she had found a match about four months ago; a young woman named Rue who had chosen me to be the future parent of her child. When she picked me, she was about five months pregnant, and at this point she could really deliver the baby any day. I had redone the spare room to act as a nursery, put together the crib with the help of Finnick, and baby-proofed my whole place. Haymitch still couldn't figure out how to get into the cupboards.

"What's going on?" I asked. She called me regularly with updates, sometimes to schedule get-togethers with myself and Rue to discuss future plans. Rue wanted an open adoption, which I was happy with. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm just going to put it all out on the table," she said, and the smile faded away from my lips. "Rue changed her mind. She's going to keep her baby." I was silent, which was rare. I almost always could find something to say. "This does happen. I'm so sorry, Peeta. She feels horrible, but she also feels like it's the right thing to do. She feels too guilty to talk to you herself, but she wanted to let you know that it's nothing against you. She said that you deserve a baby more than anyone, but she knows she just won't be able to bear separating from hers. Her mom agreed to help her, you know, when she hadn't been so agreeable before."

"Right, yeah," I said, looking down at my feet. I cleared my throat and kicked off my business loafers. "Makes sense."

"I'm sorry," she said. "Again."

"I am, too," I said quietly. "But like you said, it happens. And…we just have to move on."

I hung up with Effie after she told me that she'd get to work on finding a new case, and could feel Finnick's eyes on me. Everyone in my close circle knew how much I'd been pulling for an adoption to go through, specifically that one. I had thought that Rue would be it, the one that would work.

"What happened?" Finnick asked. His voice was concerned, but I couldn't force myself to look at him. His aquamarine eyes would only hold pity, and I didn't want that.

"Birth mother changed her mind," I said simply. There wasn't much else to it.

"Fuck," he said, along with a long sigh. "God, she can't do that, can she?"

"Yeah," I said. "She can."

I joined him in the living room, sitting in the armchair across from the couch. I didn't much feel like working out anymore.

"I'm really sorry, man," Finnick said, moving like he was going to give me a pat on the leg or something of the like, but he ended up sitting back down. "That's really shitty. I can't even imagine how that feels."

"Yeah," I said. "But I'm happy for her that she's keeping her baby."

Finnick scoffed. "Peeta, you don't have to be so PC all the time," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean; you're allowed to be mad. You can be really fucking pissed at that girl for taking your baby out from under you. It's a big thing. You can get worked up about it. You don't always have to, you know, take the benefit of the doubt. You don't always have to look at it from somebody else's point of view. You're allowed to be mad _for you_."

I sighed, having trouble agreeing with him because what I was feeling wasn't anger. A whole horde of emotions were running through me, but none of them were anger. Disappointment, loss, sorrow, yes. But I couldn't be angry with a mother for wanting to raise her own child.

"I know how bad you want a kid," Finnick said, his face softening. "It'll happen for you. It has to. I mean, come on, you're gonna be an amazing dad. And all on your fucking own? That's seriously ballsy. I mean look at Cato. He has like, a thousand kids, and his wife does all the work. You're a good guy, Peet. Some birth mom is gonna want you. She'd be crazy not to."

"I guess," I halfheartedly agreed. I stood up from the chair and scrubbed my hands down my face. "I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. Here, you can take my gym card and go on without me. Just drop it off in my mailbox when you're done." I sighed. "I just need some time alone."

"Are you sure?" he asked, standing up too. "We don't have to talk, I can always just stay and we can get takeout and watch the game or something. Just for company."

I shook my head. "Thanks, Finn. But I think it'd be better if I was just by myself."

He nodded slowly, collecting his things that he'd unloaded. "I get it," he said. "If you need anything, though, call me. I got you, man."

"Thanks," I said, and leaned on the door. "Have a good night."

"I will," he said. "And I'm really sorry that this all went down. You know, out of the blue and all that. It's not fair."

"Thanks, Finn," I said, and shut the door behind him.

When I was alone in my apartment, I let the grief hit me. I had been prepping for a transition into a brand new life, and now all of that had to come to an end. I was going to continue to be alone in this big place.

I pushed open the door to the nursery I had made and then shut it behind me, leaning against the wood to take in all that I had done. Rue was going to have a little boy, so the wooden crib by the window had a blue blanket folded over the side of it; the mattress tied with meticulous blue ribbons to the slats on the side. The changing table along the other wall matched, same with the padded seat on the rocking chair. I had even created a banner that said "Welcome Home" above the crib with triangle shaped paper; even though the baby wouldn't be able to read it, it was special to me. The top drawer of the armoire was already full of baby boy clothes; onesies, footie pajamas, bibs and socks. Resting on a shelf along the wall were plenty of empty bottles and containers of powder formula, a video baby monitor, and a white noise machine.

I had done everything. Set up everything. And now, I had nothing.

I left the nursery and changed into lounge clothes, heading into the kitchen to reheat some leftovers from the meal I had cooked the night before. Ever since Glimmer and I split up, I hadn't gotten used to making meals that would feed just one. I had hoped I wouldn't have to be used to it for long, but the process of adoption seemed to want to prove me wrong.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my camera roll, what little that was left of it at least. A few weeks ago, the guys had convinced me to delete everything that was left of Glimmer off of it. I had kept the pictures until then not because I wasn't over her, but because it was an entire chapter of my life that I was essentially pretending never happened. It did happen. Just because it didn't work out for either of us didn't mean it never happened.

Haymitch and Finnick found it hard to sympathize with Glimmer, though I didn't. They had never liked her for me, claiming that she was all about material things and the way life looked on the surface. We had tried for a couple years to have children, and had gone to a fertility specialist when nothing was working. In just a few words, he had told us that she was infertile and didn't have much likelihood in conceiving without the help of drugs or In Vitro fertilization.

She had become a different person after that, but one that I desperately tried to get to know. She was never open to the prospect of adoption, worrying how it would look to everyone in her life. She had four sisters, all of whom had a handful of kids that they'd conceived naturally. She didn't want to be the one that stuck out, and her words that she chose when she spoke about adoption were too harsh for me to even want to recall.

I had always wanted children, even before knowing her. To have a family was a dream of mine that I would never give up, and she knew that. It was better for us both to split. We loved each other deep down, but the debate of having children via adoption made us stop liking each other.

The divorce was final two weeks ago, after a long and drawn-out process. It was a relief to not have it hanging over my head anymore, but still, it felt like a chunk of my life was scooped out and thrown away. It felt like that time had gone to waste, and now without even any photographic proof, it was like a slate wiped clean.

 **KATNISS**

When I got back home, it was just a little past noon. The sky was a dark gray and it looked like the first snow could fall at any second, and the chill followed me inside.

I shut the door quietly behind me, wondering if Prim was even awake yet. Before I could bank on the fact that she might not be, she came around the corner from the kitchen with her mouth set in an aggressive frown and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hi," I said, my head ducked as I hung my purse over the stair railing.

"What the fuck, Katniss?" she spat, walking towards me. "Why did you do that without me?"

My breath rattled. "I didn't," I said.

She tipped her head to one side, her blonde eyebrows furrowing together. "Then where were you, the movies?" Her tone was sarcastic and biting; it was rare to hear her sound like this. "I'm not an idiot."

"I didn't do it," I repeated, this time lifting up my head to stare into her eyes. "I couldn't get rid of it."

There was a long, unbearable silence between us. I desperately wanted to say something, but couldn't think of what.

"Well, what are we going to do now?" she asked, the creases in her face slowly disappearing.

I sighed, my body suddenly feeling incredibly fatigued. "I was hoping you would have an idea."

She looked at me with a helpless expression on her face, her blue eyes threatening tears. "Are you going to have the baby, then?" she asked.

The concept of my belly growing, people looking at me differently, and then the act of actually having the baby and taking care of it made my knees buckle. I sat down on the couch and pressed my face into a pillow, breathing heavily to try and process what I had done.

"Are you going to keep it?" she asked, more timidly this time.

"I can't raise a kid," I said. I wrapped my arms around my torso, and hoped for the very first time that the baby couldn't hear me. Right after I thought that, though, I felt stupid. The baby was the size of a kidney bean and it couldn't hear a thing. "I'd be a horrible mother."

"You wouldn't," Prim muttered, but didn't look up to meet my eyes. She sighed. "There's always adoption."

I turned the word over in my mind for the rest of that day until I became familiar with it. My sister and I didn't have any further conversation; we hardly looked at each other and the only other words we exchanged were to wish each other goodnight.

I laid in bed and scrolled through my phone, going into my messages to see texts that I'd left unanswered for weeks. I hadn't seen Madge and Johanna since the beginning of the school year, even though we had classes around the same time. They didn't know my current state of affairs and I wasn't sure that I wanted to clue them in.

I knew for a fact that I couldn't abort this baby. If I had the strength to do it, it would've been done already.

But I also knew that I couldn't keep it. I didn't have the financial or emotional means to raise a child, and I wasn't sure if I ever would. I could only imagine if my child thought of me in the way that I thought of my own mother; I couldn't live with myself if my own child didn't like me.

The only viable option was to give it away. I'd bring the baby to term, do my part, and then give it away to someone who deserved it.

I decided as much laying there, my brain racing a thousand miles per hour but my body feeling like I'd run two marathons. It was only going to get worse, I knew. I also knew that I had no choice but to tell my friends, and that it should be sooner rather than later. I didn't have a lot of time to waste before I blew up like a balloon.

On Sunday, I texted and invited them over. Madge replied instantly and I got a dry 'k' from Jo, which I had expected. I wasn't sure if I'd even get sympathy after I told her the reason for my long stretch of silence, but I didn't care.

When they got to the house, Prim was upstairs doing homework to give me privacy with the both of them. She and I had talked about my choice earlier that morning; the first of many discussions about it, I assumed.

"Hey, guys," I said, opening the door for them and welcoming them inside from the cool fall morning. "Thanks for coming."

Madge smiled and Johanna scoffed. "Charitable for you to invite us here and use up your precious time," she said.

I chose not to buy into her words and instead, ignored her.

"Where've you been, Katniss?" Madge asked kindly, sitting down on the couch. I sat next to her and Johanna sat across from us in an armchair. "Jo's been dating this girl Blair and I've just been hanging out by myself a lot. I miss you!" She smiled, and her words were gentle. She wasn't angry with me, but I was dreading her reaction more than Johanna's after I told them.

"You're dating someone?" I asked, turning to face Jo.

She nodded, though her face was still cynical. "Yeah," she said dryly.

"For how long? Do you like her?"

"No, Katniss, I hate her. Yet we still decided to date." She rolled her eyes, and suddenly rage boiled up in my gut.

"You don't have to be so fucking sarcastic all the time," I spat.

"I think a little sarcasm is called for after you decided to not talk to us for two whole months and then just invite us over like it's nothing," she said, staring intensely at me. "The world doesn't revolve around you."

"The phone works both ways," I hissed. "You could've picked it up, too."

"That gets a little old after 45 unanswered texts and a thousand voicemails, Katniss," Jo said. "I feel like you're sitting us down for a family meeting. You think it's such a big deal to be your friend."

"I really don't," I said.

"Stop fighting," Madge said. "Just stop it. I didn't come here to listen to you two argue."

Johanna glared at her, but didn't refute what she said. "Then why _did_ we come here?" she asked, directing the question at me.

I clasped my fingers together and wrung my hands, letting a long gust of air out of my nose. "I have something that I need to tell you," I said. Suddenly, I was exhausted and wanted to lay down more than anything else. Maybe I shouldn't have ever invited them over in the first place, it would've been so much easier to just isolate myself away from the world.

"What?" Jo asked, her face still pinched. She wasn't over her anger, though mine had subsided substantially. I found that's how my moods worked now, fading just as quickly as they came on.

"It's okay," Madge said, placing a hand over my knee. I stared down at it while I tried to work up the courage to say the words aloud.

I tried to just blurt it, but when I opened my mouth, no sound came out. Suddenly, my lips were dry and I wasn't making enough saliva to speak. My hand shook as I reached for the glass of water that sat on the coffee table by my knee.

"Remember when we went to Room Seven before school started?" I began, and Madge nodded. Johanna's expression stayed deadpan. "And I went home with that guy, Peeta." I paused again, almost wanting them to jump to conclusions themselves so I wouldn't have to say it. I hadn't wanted it to turn into this big of a deal. My voice rose in pitch as the tears came. "I'm pregnant."

I lowered my gaze to the floor and felt Madge's arms wrap around my shoulders to envelop me in a tight hug. "Oh, my god, Katniss," she said as she petted my hair. "Oh, my god."

"Jesus fucking Christ…" Jo said, and I could imagine her expression though I didn't lift my face to see it. I continued to stare down at the floor, feeling Madge's arms tighten around me.

"Do you have everything figured out?" she asked. "Do you need anything? Oh, Katniss."

Johanna picked up where she had left off. "You really are brainless, aren't you?" she chirped. "Didn't you use a condom?"

I finally lifted my gaze. No one had talked to me this harshly since it happened - probably because Madge and Jo were only the second and third people whom I had told. I already knew that I was stupid. I didn't need her to tell me that.

"We were drunk," I said, my voice waterlogged. "I get that it was dumb, Jo. I already know that."

She raised her eyebrows. "Worse than dumb."

"Stop it," Madge scolded, emphasizing her words sharply. "She doesn't need you berating her."

"If I don't, who will?" Jo asked. "She fucked up. She knows it. Stop babying her."

I felt myself harden towards my friend, mostly because I halfway agreed with her. Prim and Madge's first instincts have always been to coddle me. Johanna never would.

"Not using a condom…. Seriously, Katniss?" she asked. "You could have ten STIs by now."

"They tested me when I found out I was pregnant," I said. "I'm clean."

"You're lucky, that's what you are," she said.

"Now's not really the time, Jo," Madge said, her arms still locked around my shoulders.

Both of them were quiet for a beat as they let the news settle down onto them.

"Okay, I get it," I said again. "I'm really fucking dumb. Like _really_ dumb."

"True," Johanna said, always having to get the last word.

"Thanks," I said.

There was another long beat of silence. Finally, Madge peeled her arms away from me so she could make eye contact. "Did you tell him?"

I shook my head; slow at first and then faster.

"As you can already see, it does nothing when you keep people out of the loop," Jo quipped.

I bit the inside of my lower lip, eyes flitting between my two friends. "Oh, my god," Johanna said, drawing her words out. "You don't know who your baby daddy is, do you?"

I choked back a sob, and Madge was even too shocked to embrace me. "Wait, what?" she asked.

"She broke up with Gale like, not even 48 hours before we went to Room Seven," Jo said. "They must've had sex recently before that. Tell me I'm wrong, Katniss." I said nothing. Didn't move a muscle. "Then she went home and she and Peeta fucked. And I'm guessing the sex with Gale was unprotected too, Brainless?" Again, no response from me. "It was," she continued. "So right now, she doesn't know who the hell this kid's father is. Could be either one of those man-whores."

"Johanna…" Madge said.

"No, she's right," I said. "I don't know. And that's what scares me the most." I sniffled; wet and loud. "Because if the baby is Gale's, I've given it a death sentence already. You know, by drinking so much at Room Seven." I started to cry, my shoulders racked with uncontrollable sobs. "I didn't know. I didn't know…"

"Shh, shh, it's all gonna be okay," Madge said, rubbing my back in small circles.

I felt Johanna's judging eyes on me, but didn't give in to her stare. My eyes stayed closed, leaking fat tears out of the sides that dropped down my cheeks and plopped onto my leggings.

"So what are you gonna do?" she finally asked. "Why don't you just, you know, off it?" She made a crude squelching sound with her mouth that I chose to ignore.

"I tried," I peeped, wiping my face with the heels of my hands. "I couldn't do it." Johanna sighed. I could even hear her eye-roll. "I just couldn't, okay?" I heard myself get defensive, but I couldn't help it. It took over my body like a wave. "I went alone. I really thought I was going to do it. I had an appointment at the Family Planning off Washington and Wells. And I was sitting there reading the pamphlet and…" I shook my head, my lips scrunching up again. "I couldn't live with myself. If I… if I killed…" I started hiccupping from sobbing so hard. "My dad, he always said…"

"You don't have to talk about it, Katniss," Madge said. "It's okay. It was your choice."

"So you're keeping the kid," Jo said, monotone.

I tried to straighten up. "No," I said. "I think I decided that I'm going to put it up for adoption."

Madge seemed to tense beside me. I pulled away from her and, with a questioning look on my face said, "What?"

"I just…" She pursed her lips. "It doesn't matter."

"No, what?" I persisted.

"It's not my business," she said.

"I told you everything," I said. "I just made it your business. So spit it out, whatever you want to say."

She sighed. "I just know you, Katniss. And I just… I don't want you to have the baby, and get so attached and…"

"That's not going to happen," I said sternly. "I don't want a kid. I can't have a kid." I shook my head adamantly. "That's not going to happen."

"Okay," Madge said quietly. "I believe you."

Madge's words sat with me for the rest of the day, even after the two of them left. Prim had been holed up in her room since the morning, and I kept the space between us until right before I went to bed.

I knocked on her door after hesitating for a short moment, and heard her soft voice telling me to come in. I pushed the door open and padded inside, dressed in drawstring pajama pants and an oversized gray t-shirt, my hair in messy waves around my shoulders. "Hi," I said.

"Hey," she replied, looking up from her computer. She was typing something; what, I wasn't sure. "What's up?"

I shrugged and sat down on her pink bed. "Not a lot."

"Something on your mind?" she asked.

"Of course," I muttered, instinctively placing my arm over my belly.

"How did the girls take it?"

I sighed. "Just like you'd think they would. Johanna showed no sympathy. I didn't want her to, but she was mad over the fact that I hadn't talked to them for that long. Madge was sympathetic at first, but then said something that I didn't like."

"What did she say?" Prim asked.

"She was trying to tell me that I would make a big deal about putting the baby up for adoption and then go back on my word last minute and keep it because I'd get too attached," I said. "I told her that wouldn't happen." Prim was quiet. "What do you think?"

She took a moment to think. "I think that whatever you have in your mind that you're going to do, that's what you'll do. You're stubborn like that."

A smile found its way to my lips. She knew me better than anyone. "Thanks for being here," I said quietly. "Even though I've been a flighty bitch."

"You have," she agreed with a smile. "But I'm gonna be here for you. We have a lot longer to last through this, and it's only gonna get harder."

My heart sank, knowing how right she was.

A month passed. By the time I was 12 weeks along, my bump was more defined and instead of just pudgy and fat, I looked like some semblance of pregnant.

Fall quarter at DePaul was over with, and winter break would last until the beginning of January. Prim and I had decided that I would use this time to meet potential families to adopt the baby.

Next month, my ultrasound would show if it was a boy or a girl. Last week, Madge asked me what I hoped it would be and I dissolved into furious tears. My moods had been uncontrollable, and any little thing would shove me over the edge into hysterics. My triggers changed daily, there was no telling what might do it.

Prim knew that we shouldn't talk about what I "hoped for" with the baby. I'd been pretending that it wasn't even mine. If Prim talked about it, it was health-related and logistic.

I'd chosen Cradle Adoption Agency as mine to work through, and picked out a few families from their web page during a meeting with my social worker. It felt like , but much more serious. After the first time I met with my caseworker, I ran out of the agency and violently threw up in the parking lot. There wasn't a single moment I didn't feel weighed down with incredible stress.

The morning was snowy and blustery when I came down the hall to find Prim at the kitchen table, reading DePaul's newspaper. I smirked to myself at her cute, concentrated face, and poured myself a cup of orange juice that I couldn't stand the taste of, but was basically prescribed to drink. I took my prenatal vitamins with it and sat down with her at the table. She put her paper down and looked at me with a calm, complacent expression on her face.

"You're going to meet families today, right?" she asked. I nodded. "Do you want me to come with you? I have some homework for my December session class, but I can always put it off."

I shook my head. "No," I said. "I'll be okay on my own."

"You sure?" she asked. "I don't want you to projectile vomit and have to be alone for it."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at myself. "I don't think that's gonna happen again."

"You never know," she said lightly, and put down the paper. "You never know with you."

I ate a bowl of cereal and watched the clock as the time I needed to leave grew closer. I was supposed to be at the agency at noon, and it was a long train ride. Around the time that 10:30 rolled around, I sat on the bottom step and shoved my boots on, lacing them up tight.

"Maybe I _should_ go with you," Prim said, leaning against the banister. "I want to. Please let me, Katniss. I don't want you to go alone."

I sighed, noticing the worried glint in her eyes. "Fine. But you can't go in the room with me when I meet them."

"No, no, of course not," she said, and walked to the coat rack to pull her parka off a hook. "I'll just wait in the lobby. It's just such a long train ride, and you're pregnant…"

"I know, I know, you're trying to help, yeah, yeah, yeah," I said. "Don't need to explain yourself. Just get your boots on. It's snowing."

When we were on the train, we didn't exchange any conversation. There weren't many passengers, assumedly because of the weather, and we had to ride all the way to Howard and then get on a Purple Line to get to this place. By the time we got past Lawrence, I was asleep with my head rested on Prim's shoulder.

She tapped me awake after what seemed like mere moments, and I noticed that we were at Howard and had to transfer. Our Purple Line ride was long too, but with my nerves kicking in I only wished it were longer. We got to Foster, which was our stop, and I held onto Prim's arm as we went down the steps, and then turned the corner to finish the rest of the trip on foot.

Once we were in the lobby of Cradle Adoption, I noticed we were a few minutes late and my caseworker, Alma, was waiting for us with her hands clasped together in front of her.

"Katniss, you're here," she said, almost immediately. "Here, let me take your coat." I shed my outer layer and stomped my boots on the ground so the snow would fall off. "The Vanguard family is waiting for you right in the conference room. I'd like to talk to you a bit beforehand, though, if that's all right."

I told her it was, and bid Prim goodbye to wait in the lobby until I was finished meeting the three families that were in the lineup today.

Alma and I sat down in her office and she spoke at me rather than to me. "The Vanguards have been trying to have a baby for almost ten years. They live in Evanston, around Northwestern's campus. He's a physician, she's a realtor. They make good money. They'd be willing to negotiate an open adoption with you, and they're Christian – they go to church every Sunday. They have two nieces and a nephew that-"

"Can I just meet them?" I asked, growing impatient. "They can tell me all this themselves, can't they?"

That seemed to fluster her. She straightened her back and organized her papers as she stood up from her desk, ushering me out. "Yes, yes, I suppose you can," she said, her voice now taut. "Right this way."

I pushed my way through a wide doorway and into an almost-empty conference room. Sitting in two chairs on the opposite side of the table from me was a couple that looked to be in their early forties, gripping each other's hands tight in anticipation of meeting me.

"Hi there," the woman said eagerly, half-standing. She outstretched her hand for me to shake, which I reluctantly did. "I'm Penny. This is Hal. We're the Vanguards." She sat back down. I wiped my palm inconspicuously on my thigh – her grip had been cold and clammy. "We'd love to talk to you about adopting your baby. Ask us anything, anything you'd like."

Suddenly, my mouth was dry and my throat seemed to close up. I opened my mouth in preparation to speak, but my brain was blank. I couldn't think of a single question. I looked desperately to Alma, who had already been looking at me. She wanted _me_ to ask the questions, I realized, and wasn't going to be of any help. I scrambled; opening and closing my lips like a fish until I put enough words together to say aloud.

"How…" I began, stammering. "How are you going to tell it about…you know, me?" The question came out broken and disjointed, nothing like I wanted it to. But now it was out there and there was nothing I could do to take it back. It wasn't a great opener, but it was the one question that we were all banking on. At least the one that _I_ was banking on.

"Oh, um, wow!" Penny said, looking at her husband with dramatically raised eyebrows. "That's a big hitter, isn't it? You're not afraid to get right to the point, are you, Miss Everdeen?" She giggled; a tiny titter of a laugh. "I like that. Well, um, to answer your question…" She tapped her finger to her chin, as if they hadn't spent hours prepping for this very moment. We all knew that they had. "The answer really depends on what _you_ want."

I hadn't wanted her to say that. That didn't tell me anything. "I asked _you_ ," I countered, finding it hard to make eye contact. "I want to know what your ideal plans are. What they would be, I guess."

"Oh, um…" She trailed off again, catching Hal's eye for assistance, but he gave none. He sat there like a toad on a log. "Well, we'd love to have you in the baby's life. Of course we'd always keep the child informed on how they came to be with our family, that it was all because of you. You'd always be their birth mother; you have to know that. You play a very important role. In fact, _the_ most important role."

She looked at me with bright brown eyes, as if she expected this answer to please me. It didn't; in fact, it did the opposite.

Once they left, Alma faced me. "So?" she asked.

I stared down at the table; the fine grooves and indents of it. "Something about them wasn't right. Not a good fit." I sighed. "I don't want them."

"Okay…" she said, writing furiously on her yellow pad of paper. "Maybe it'll go better with the next couple."

The next husband and wife were the Fontaines. They were a bit younger, a bit more casual and laid back. Neither of them reached to shake my hand, they just smiled at me from across the way. I held my belly under the table, scooping my arm around the underside of it. Holding it like that had become a habit.

Alma asked a lot of the precursory questions that time. What was their neighborhood like, when would they go back to work, what did a typical day in their family look like? She let me ask the only one that was on my mind; seemingly the only one that mattered.

"How would you tell it about me?" I asked, bluntly again.

And again, it caught them off guard. This time, the husband, Tim, answered. "We'd tell the child as much as they want to know, as much as they ask about, depending on their age," he said. "We don't plan on keeping any secrets from them. That's not our goal at all… We care about you, Katniss, not just because you're the mother of our potential future child, but because you're a human being with emotions. We don't see you as just a baby donor off the street. We'd love it if you became a big part of our family as well. The way you feel is very important here, too."

Once they were gone, I was even more visibly upset. My hands had begun to shake. I let Alma know how I felt, and she seemed troubled by my reaction. It wasn't what she expected. There was only one family left; the Edingtons.

They were two blonde smiles with long legs, each reaching out to give me a firm handshake before they sat. And once they did sit, their eyes didn't leave my face. Even when I looked away, I could still feel their Aryan stares searing into my skin.

Again, Alma asked the questions that she felt needed to be asked and left me to end it. I asked them _the_ question, and they didn't bluster about. They didn't stumble. They got very quiet, seemingly communicating telepathically, and then the woman, Lila, began to speak.

"We don't believe in lying to the child," she said, slowly, as if I was going to need to time to process what she was saying. "We already have shelves of children's books about adoption. We have two other adopted children already, and their birth mothers come to our house for every holiday, sometimes even just on weekends for fun. The kids call them when they need something they feel we can't quite understand. They're the kids' confidantes, the person that isn't their parent that they can go to. We want you to be that for the baby, Katniss. It would mean a lot to us if you were present in their lives."

Once the Edingtons left, my body was rigid with stress and rage. I let out a loud exhalation from my nose and couldn't meet Alma's eyes when I spoke. "I don't want to be a part of any of this," I said, my voice almost at a growl.

"What?" Alma asked, looking up from my file.

I stood up from my chair and it rolled backwards to hit the wall. "Just place the baby yourself. I don't want anything to do with it after it's born. I don't want to be in its life, I don't want to know who adopts it, I don't want any of that." I walked away from her and paused at the door that led out of the conference room. "That's why I hired you. I don't want to know anything. Pick someone who you think would fit. None of them. I don't want any of them. But I don't want to know anything about it. All I want to do is to have this baby and be done and forget it ever happened."

I stormed out of the room and met Prim in the lobby in tears, shoving my arms into my coat with great difficulty. She held it for me after seeing my struggle, and we hurried out of the building as fast as we could into the gusts of snow.

When we were out of the weather and on the Purple Line train, Prim looked at me hopefully. I had receded into my hood, tucking my chin into my chest as I stared at my fingers clasped together on my lap.

"So?" she asked expectantly. I shrugged. "What, you didn't like any of them?" I shook my head. "What was wrong with them?"

"I just don't want anything to do with it," I said, my voice hardly rising over the rumble of the train. "They all want me to be a part of the baby's life. A part of _their_ life." My shoulders hunched in towards each other even more. "I'm not interested in that."

"So what happens now?"

"I told Alma to place the baby herself. I don't want to know anything about it. People do that…I've read about it online. It's a closed adoption; that's what I want. I just want to forget this ever happened."

Prim nodded to herself and then broke my hands apart so she could hold one of them.

When we were back on the Red Line, Prim spoke again. "Are you going to tell him?" she asked.

"Tell who?" I retorted, feeling my face heat up.

"I don't know," she said, suddenly timid. "Gale. Peeta."

I slapped my hands down on my knees, which made her jump. "Which one of them would you suppose that I tell?" My tone was nasty and sharp; she didn't deserve it. But I had no control. "I don't know whose child this is," I said, pointing to my belly. "So no, I don't plan on telling either of them."

She nodded but didn't say anything more.


	4. Four

**KATNISS**

Around two months later, I was 25 weeks pregnant and winter quarter was in session. About a month before, Prim and I had gone in for my 16-week ultrasound, and the ultrasound technician had asked if I wanted to know the sex of the baby. At first, at the beginning of it all, I had thought I would want to know. But as I distanced myself from my own pregnancy, I came to the realization that it would be harder to get attached if I didn't.

My shape was clearly pregnant now, and my walk was more of a waddle. My hands and fingers were almost always swollen, and the only parts of my body that looked worse were my feet and ankles. I was turning into a balloon, but luckily everyone in my classes kept mostly to themselves and didn't bother with asking me about it.

I was sitting in the middle of a lecture on a gray day in February when it happened. The professor was talking about something that wasn't even registering in my mind, and suddenly my stomach panged with hunger stronger than it ever had before.

I sat up straighter and my hand flew to my belly, curling around it as usual. I felt my expression grow concerned; my eyebrows knitted together and my mouth set in a pensive frown. The sensation happened again, but something was telling me that this wasn't hunger. It felt like butterflies. The obstetrician had told me that this would come between 24 and 30 weeks, and to watch out for this kind of nervous, fluttery feeling.

The baby was moving.

My breathing sped up and I packed up my belongings as fast as I could, shoving them into my backpack without any care whatsoever. Once I was out in the hallway, I pressed my back against the wall and breathed heavily with one hand pressed to my heart and the other one flat over my belly, tracking the baby's movements.

It was alive. Alive, inside me, and kicking.

It all hit me at once, standing there in the desolate, empty hallway while everyone else was in class. I was having a baby and I was giving it away. There was a life inside me that was formed enough to the point where it could move and makes its presence known.

Tears poured down my face and I sunk to the floor, where I sat with my knees pressed to my chest. I wanted my sister, I wanted Madge, I wanted Jo. Anyone; just so I wouldn't have to feel this alone.

 **PEETA**

I knew before I even agreed to it that it would be a mistake to go home for my mom's birthday. But I said that I'd be there anyway, even as my stomach sank with dread on the car ride out to Evanston, where my family still lived.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I neared the house, my brain defaulting into autopilot as I cruised through the neighborhood that I grew up in. I hardly needed to look up at the road. I pulled into my childhood home's driveway and parked fluidly, comfortable from the thousands of times I'd done it before.

I got out of the car and was met by my older brother, Pax, who enveloped me in a big bear hug and clapped me on the back as hard as he could. "Peeta!" he bellowed. "Good to see you, it's been like, ten fucking years."

I laughed, fixing my hair that he'd just messed up. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry about that."

"Doesn't matter, at least you're here now. Come on in, Mom wants to get dinner on the table."

I walked next to him as we made our way inside. "You made Mom cook on her birthday?" I asked, kicking my shoes off in the same place they'd always gone. "Jesus."

"You couldn't get here 'til now. She didn't want to wait that long."

I raised my eyebrows and sighed to myself, picking my battles wisely. I made my way into the kitchen where my mother was taking a casserole in a glass dish out of the oven. "Hey, mom," I said.

"Peeta," she said, and her voice even came close to sounding warm and kind. "Nice of you to show your face." She turned around with a grimace-like grin set on her lips.

"Happy birthday," I said, and kissed her cheek. "That smells great."

"Well, it should, since I worked on it all day," she grumbled, finally setting the dish down on the counter.

"I can't believe they made you cook on your birthday," I said, pulling out plates to set the table with. "Where is Rye, anyway?"

"In the basement with your father fixing a pipe that burst. You could've gotten here earlier, too, you know," she said. "You know that they can't cook worth shit. You're the only one who ever paid attention."

"I wanted to," I said, placing a plate at each table setting. "But I had to work today."

"On a Saturday," she said.

"Yeah. There was a festival going on at one of our locations. I'm the boss, I have to show my face at those kinds of things."

"Oh, a boy with such an important face," she said, untying her apron. "I'm so glad you could grace us with your presence."

I set my lips in a straight line and chose to ignore her snappy tone. Instead, I set the napkins and silverware out and filled each glass up with ice water.

When everyone was sitting at the table eating, the questions started.

"So, Peeta," my dad said. "I remember a while ago you said that you were looking into adopting a baby."

There was a short pause as I chewed that Rye decided to fill. "Seems like a weird thing to do now that you and Glimmer split."

I swallowed the bite I'd been working on. "It's not weird," I said. "Single dads are a thing. They exist."

"I just don't get why you'd want to do it alone," he continued. "It's already hard enough with someone there to help you."

"I know that," I said.

"Like, me and Bonnie hardly got by when we first had Halley. I still don't know how we made it through that first year. It was hell."

Rye had three kids; Halley, Harlowe and Henry. They were 6, 5 and 3, and presumably all home with Bonnie at the moment. Pax had one son, Nathaniel, who was born less than a year ago.

"It's not like you're shooting blanks, right?" Pax asked, his face contorted with confusion. "Why can't you just wait to find another chick who you can get married to and help you pop out kids the old-fashioned way?" He paused. "Unless… _are_ you shooting blanks, dude?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not shooting blanks."

"I agree with your brother," Mom said, giving me a pointed, stern look. "Just because you're impatient doesn't mean you have to jump the gun."

"I'm not jumping the gun," I said, a little too quickly. "This is what I want."

"You should just make sure you've thought it through before you go and do something big like this," my dad said, pointing his fork in my direction.

"I'm almost 30 years old," I said. "I've given it plenty of thought. Somehow, I've learned how to make decisions on my own."

"I don't need to hear that tone from you," Mom said, snapping her head to glare at me.

I chose not to respond to her scolding. "Anyway, you shouldn't worry about it. The adoptions never go through for me, anyway."

"Maybe because they're creeped out that a lonely, single dude is so desperate to adopt a kid," Rye laughed.

I bristled with rage. I hadn't come here to argue or defend myself to my family, yet that's what always ended up happening.

"That's not why," I said.

"You never know," Pax said, shrugging one shoulder.

I opened my mouth so I could argue again, but then shut it. It wasn't worth it. For the rest of the night I reverted into the Peeta that I used to be; the one who would nod silently, agree and take direction from whomever gave it. It was the only way to get by in that house.

As I sat at my desk on Monday morning going through emails, my office phone rang. At first glance I recognized Effie's number, so I picked up the call eagerly and shut my door for privacy.

"Hi, Effie," I said, leaning back in my rolling chair and twirling the spiraled cord around my finger.

"Hi, Peeta," she said, sounding energetic. "I have some big, big, big news for you."

Instantly, my stomach twisted with anticipation. "Yeah?" I urged.

"There's a birth mother," she said, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "She's young, but not as young as Rue was. She's got a good head on her shoulders. She told her social worker that she doesn't want anything to do with the adoption, that she wants the baby to be placed for her. Her social worker happens to be one of my good friends, and I've told her about your struggle for placement. It's a perfect match for you, Peeta."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. "I…" I stammered. "Wait, what? I can't believe this!"

"She wants a closed adoption, nothing like we've come across before. I'll have you come in and sign some papers next week, but this case can be yours, Peeta. This baby can be yours."

"You have to be kidding me," I said. "After this whole process that's been so difficult, this is so easy."

"I know," Effie said. "It's like it was meant to happen."

My mouth was still gaping open. "How old is she? How far along? Is she having a boy or a girl? Am I allowed to meet her?"

Effie chuckled from my influx of questions. "She's 22 years old, and as of right now she's almost 6 months along; the baby's due date is mid-June. She chose not to find out the sex of the baby. And no, you won't be allowed to meet her. The way that it will work is that you'll be at the hospital when the baby is born, but you will never be in the room with the birth mother and the child. After the baby's born and cleaned up, it'll get handed to me and I'll bring it to you. After that, you'll sign some official documents and legally, you will become that baby's parent in the hospital. If the baby needs to stay there longer than usual, you'll be the one staying with them. The baby will have your last name, and you will get to give it its first and middle names, too. Once the birth mother hands the baby to me, she relinquishes her rights. After 48 hours elapses after that, there's legally no going back for her."

Tears sprang to my eyes. This was more real than it had ever been. I had gotten to the point where I didn't think it was going to happen for me, but this time felt different. This time felt like something that I'd always wanted in life was going to come true. I was going to be a father. In just a few short months, I was going to have a baby.

I went home that night and opened the door to the nursery back up. I took down the decorations that were blatantly male and wrote down a shopping list of androgynous things that I would need to buy. I had a little bit more than three months to prepare, but in comparison to the past, that was right around the corner.

I wasn't going to be alone anymore.

 **KATNISS**

The next three months went by in a blur of hormones, fake contractions and a more complicated mix of emotions than I'd ever known before. Every day, Prim proved to me how wonderful of a mother she herself would be someday, cementing in my mind that I was making the right choice. I could have never done all that she did on my own.

It happened during finals week. The June air in Chicago was heavy and warm, and I was sweating bullets already by just walking off of the train. I was wearing capri leggings and an athletic tank top with a cardigan shoved into my bag if I happened to get cold in the classroom. That was per Prim's request; I knew I would never get cold. Our energy bill had skyrocketed from how much I used the air conditioning at home.

I walked into my classroom in the Levan center and found my desk; the one that was specially designated for me because the rest in the room were chairs attached to a desk via a metal bar. I stopped fitting in those around the time my 7th month rolled around, so the professor found me a single desk and a more comfortable chair to put behind it.

I sat down and put my bag down next to my chair, and had my pencil ready as the finals were being passed out. I was confident about passing, this class had been an easy one for me to master. Since it was my senior year, it was just an elective that I had never filled beforehand.

I started working on the short answer questions when I felt a sharp pain in my lower back. I winced and the lead of my pencil snapped as I pressed it down onto the page, and I caught the stare of someone sitting in front of me. I shot a quick smile at them as the pain faded after a minute, and blinked my eyes hard. I continued to take the test, concentrating as best as I could, when an identical pain happened about ten minutes later.

I chewed the inside of my cheek until the skin became ragged and waited out the pain, and it eventually did dissipate. I let out the breath that I'd been holding and flipped the page of my exam, working my way through the questions as best I could. When the next cramp came, I was on the last page and pinched my eyes shut until it went away, and then finished up the test.

I gathered my things and slammed the paper down onto my professor's desk, hardly able to stop and thank him for a good last quarter before I rushed out of the classroom and into the quiet hall. I pressed my hands against the tightening muscles in my back and started towards the stairs when I felt a seeping sensation between my legs.

I looked down and saw that the crotch of my leggings was soaked all the way down to where the hem cut off at my calf. And after that point, there was liquid dripping down my skin and onto my socks, then into my tennis shoes.

My breath began to come faster and my heart was hammering so fast I thought it would burst out of my chest. At the same time, my body started to quake like I was freezing, but I felt no change in temperature.

I fished my phone out of my purse and with shaking fingers, called my sister.

Before she even had a chance to greet me, I practically shouted, "I'm going into labor!"

She stayed calm, which wasn't surprising. This past quarter she had learned a lot about pregnancy and labor, which we both found incredibly fitting.

"Okay, okay, stay calm," she said. "We probably don't need to go to the hospital yet. You're probably just in pre-labor."

I tried to take in big breaths and let out even bigger ones, still holding onto my tight lower back. "Tell that to my water that just broke," I managed to say.

"That doesn't necessarily mean we need to go," she said. "At least sometimes. Do you have a pad with you?"

"No!" I said. "I'm pregnant! No period!"

She let out a long sigh as she got her thoughts in order. "Okay, I'm in Arts and Letters. I just got out of a final. Where are you?"

"Levan," I said.

"I'm coming to get you."

We ended up going to the hospital in an ambulance that I couldn't even find the energy to worry about the cost of. Once we got there, I was admitted and as I laid there on the hospital bed with Prim in a chair next to me, my contractions decided to stop.

"Sometimes it happens," the midwife, Twill, said when she popped into the room. "According to your body, you're not in a safe place anymore, so it freezes up."

I rolled my eyes. "As if the middle of an exam was a safe place."

She chuckled at my dry humor. "It was somewhere you were familiar with. And the beginning, the whole 'safe place' thing doesn't hold true as much. It's going to start when it wants to; it's the continuing that's the tricky part."

When Twill left the room, I stared up at the ceiling and heard Prim flipping pages of a book. "I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?"

I already knew that I was. I didn't know why I said that out loud, the words came out without any permission from my brain.

"Yes," Prim said, placing her palm flat over the middle of her book. "Of course you are."

I nodded to myself. "I know," I said. "I know that."

Four hours passed, and my contractions came back with a vengeance. They moved around to the front and got closer together, and I lost count of how many times the doctors and nurses put my feet up in the stirrups so they could look between my legs to see how far I was dilated.

I clutched Prim's hand during a particularly bad contraction and clenched my teeth together. I let out a strangled-sounding yelp and let my head fall to hit the pillow once it was over with, my chest heaving.

"Any minute now and we're going to ask you to start pushing," the doctor said. "Things started moving fast. This baby wants out." He snapped on a pair of latex gloves and had a scrub nurse adjust his surgical mask. "Everyone ready?" There were murmurs of assent from the two nurses and Twill, and even Prim, though she was wringing her hands as she stood there in scrubs. "How about you, Katniss?" he asked.

"Don't really have much of a choice," I said, bearing down. The pressure had lowered, Twill had told me that I had experienced lightening; where the baby moves downward and relieves some of the pressure away from the ribcage and onto the bladder. Before my contractions started coming quicker, I had been peeing every ten minutes.

Pain rippled through me like nothing I'd ever felt before in my entire life. White hot flames singed behind my eyelids as I pressed my chin to my chest, screaming at the top of my lungs as I tried to push the baby out again and again. After I'd felt I'd done all I could do, I let my body go limp to rest against the bed, and intense crying filled the room.

"Wait, it's out?" I asked. I hadn't realized my most recent big push would be _the_ push.

"It's a girl," the doctor said, and with my own eyes I witnessed the cord being cut, witnessed my baby become separated from me.

"It's a girl," I whispered, seemingly to Prim, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from my baby.

I felt empty.

Her cries filled the room; loud, rhythmic sounds, and I felt so connected with her that I couldn't put words to the emotions coursing through my body at top speed. I watched the nurse clean her up and wrap her tightly in a pink-and-white-striped blanket, and then put a little pink cap on top of her bald head.

After the baby was born, I had passed my placenta and been stitched up where I needed to be. The room was silent; the people who didn't need to be in there had left and the chaos was over. I was in unbearable pain, but I was staring at my daughter.

I had just brought a life into this world. All by myself, I had done it. She was being weighed and tested and checked, and when that was finished, the nurse walked over to me.

"Would you like to hold her?" she asked.

I saw a woman I didn't recognize suddenly appear in the corner of the room, leaning inconspicuously against the doorjamb. Behind her was Alma, and the context clues help me put together who the woman was. My daughter's adoptive family's caseworker. She was here to take her away.

"Hold her, Katniss," Prim said firmly. I hadn't realized how long I'd stayed mute.

"I'll-… I'll hold her," I said, as I extended my trembling arms. The nurse gave me my daughter and I held her tiny body on my chest, just staring down into her face. Her dark blue eyes were wide open, taking in the world, and her mouth was opening and closing. She had a light pink birthmark on her chest, no bigger than a dime, that looked like a splatter of paint. I ran one finger down her smooth cheek and felt tears roll down my own; tears that dripped onto her hospital blanket.

She pursed her lips together and then opened them again, cooing at me as she did so, and then the nurse said, "I think she's hungry. I can show you how to feed her, if you want."

She obviously didn't know about the adoption, and I wasn't going to tell her. As of that moment it was only the nurse, Prim and me in the room. I didn't have anything to hide or hold back.

"Yeah," I said, my voice still trembling, "show me."

After just moments, my baby was latched onto my breast, nursing contentedly for the very first time. "You're a natural," the nurse said. "Wow. Hardly anyone catches on that fast, mama or baby. You should be proud."

I took off my baby's tiny hat and stroked the top of her head. "I am," I whispered, and my throat clogged up again.

When she was finished eating, I held her as she slept on my chest. The serene feeling lasted for about fifteen minutes, and then Alma and the other caseworker came in, holding official papers.

"Katniss, it's time," Alma said. "I'll need your signature there, at the bottom. We read this over in my office a couple weeks ago. You can change your mind up to 48 hours after the time she was born. After that, your parental rights are relinquished and you will have no means of contacting the child or her parents, per your request."

I nodded shakily, feeling my baby stir in my arms. They were talking too loud; they were going to wake her up.

As Alma handed me the clipboard and the pen, I looked down into my daughter's small, round face. She had come from me. There was nothing that would change that; there wasn't another woman in the world who could say that she birthed _this_. This beautiful, tiny baby, who was going to be ripped away from me any moment now.

"They'll take care of her," Prim whispered, folding her hands together as she leaned on my hospital bed. I could hear tears in her voice, which was rare. "Don't second-guess yourself, Katniss. You've been planning this for months." She lifted her head and burned her blue eyes into me. "It's the right thing to do."

I signed the papers.

Once I did, I pressed a lasting kiss to my daughter's forehead and handed her to Alma, realizing that I'd held her for both the first and last time. Before they could take her away for good, I took her blanket and tucked it under my arm.

I would never touch her, no less hold her, ever again.

When the two women left the room, I cried harder than I ever had before.

 **PEETA**

In the room that I was given to wait in, time was going slower than ever. I couldn't bear to sit down and bounce my leg up and down anymore, so I had taken to pacing the entire length of the room to try and slow the thoughts that were racing through my mind.

I went through everything I had at home; crib, formula, changing table, diapers, outfits, burp cloths, bottles, pacifiers, baby powder, a baby bathtub, all sorts of hygiene products. I had baby-proofed my place all over again, though I knew that wouldn't actually be necessary until the baby could crawl and walk.

I massaged my temples and tried to breathe as evenly as I could. There was no going back after this. I had to be ready; any minute now, I was going to be a father.

My stomach was jumping with nerves. I was suddenly second-guessing everything I had once been confident about. What if I was no good at this? There was always the chance that I'd be a horrible father, and that my family would be right. Was it any good for a kid to be raised by their dad alone?

Before I completely succumbed to my toxic thoughts, there was a soft knock on the door. Only seconds later, it opened, and Alma and Effie appeared.

The baby was in Alma's arms, nestled into the crook of her elbow, sound asleep.

My heart plummeted to my feet as I stared at the tiny bundle. I could hardly believe that it was human. Even more so, that it was _mine_.

"Peeta," Effie said, beaming. "I'd like you to meet your daughter."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Without realizing it, I had extended my arms and Alma situated her into them, and I felt the weight of the baby for the very first time. My baby. My daughter.

"What would you like to name her?" a hospital official, who I had just noticed, asked.

I had been poring over baby name books for days. I was prepared long before I came here. "Pearl," I said, "Pearl Ember Mellark."

"Beautiful," Effie said.

I stared down into my daughter's face; her tiny pink lips, her almost-nonexistent eyebrows, and her wide, blue eyes that she'd just opened up. "Beautiful," I repeated, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

When I took Pearl home 24 hours later, I sat in the back seat with Finnick driving and Haymitch in the passenger seat drinking a can of Diet Coke. Ever since he gave up drinking to "be the best uncle that Pearl could ask for," he had become a Diet Coke addict.

"Slow the fuck down, Odair," Haymitch grumbled as Finnick hurried through a yellow light. "Where's the fuckin' fire? We'll get there when we fuckin' get there. There's a god damn baby in the back seat."

I smiled to myself, keeping one arm encircled around Pearl's infant car seat. She was awake, but had her eyes shut, which was proving to be pretty common.

"It's exhausting being a newborn," I said, reaching over the edge of the seat and letting her grab onto my thumb. "Pearl can hardly keep her eyes open."

"I'd be tired too if I was just shoved headfirst through a vagina," Finnick said, a laughing tone in his voice.

"True," Haymitch said, lifting his can of Diet Coke slightly. "True, true."

As we drove along, Pearl fell asleep with her head leaned slightly to one side. I didn't take my eyes off of her for the entire ride; I couldn't bear to. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I still couldn't believe that she was mine.

Finnick parked the car in the parking garage and I gently lifted the carrier out of the back seat and walked as gently as I could with it to the elevator. Haymitch kept his eyes on the baby, making sure I wasn't jumbling her around too much, and Finnick got to every door before I did to make sure it was open.

When I walked through the front door, I lifted Pearl out of the carrier and into my arms. She felt so small even though she was born at a healthy weight; almost eight pounds. Dressed in a onesie and pants combo, her body was still scrunched up into itself from the position she had been in in her mother's womb.

"This is your new home, Pearl," I said, cradling her as I walked around my spacious apartment. "This is where you're gonna grow up, come home every day, and hang out with me. Welcome to the world."

Finnick smiled as he sat down on the couch, and I sat in the middle of he and Haymitch with the baby still in my arms.

"Look, she's opening her eyes a little bit," Finnick said, leaning on his knees to see Pearl's face better.

"Are you looking around?" Haymitch asked. "Look at those big blue eyes. Look like yours, Peeta."

I laughed softly. "They'll probably change. All newborns' eyes are blue."

We sat there, the four of us together, making light conversation for a while as Pearl drifted in and out of sleep. When she started to fuss – the infant-sounding cry that no one likes the sound of – Finnick's eyes widened.

"What does she want?" he asked, backing away.

"Well, she wants a boob," I said, standing up with her in my arms as I headed to the kitchen. "But I can only give her the next best thing." I made her a bottle and with trembling hands, fed it to her as I sat back down on the couch. It quieted her cries as she drank it slowly, and Finnick and Haymitch seemed to relax alongside me.

"I can't help but think about her mom," I said, after a long period of silence.

The two didn't respond right away. Finally, Haymitch said, "why?" I sighed as I stared down into Pearl's face. "Are you afraid she's going to take her back?"

I shook my head. "No…I don't think that," I said. "I'm just thinking about what she must be feeling."

"Don't you think she's relieved?" Finnick asked, crossing one leg over the other so his ankle rested on his knee. "If she put the baby up for adoption, that means she didn't want her."

"It could've been a million different reasons," I said, watching Pearl reach her arms up haphazardly and then curl and uncurl her fingers. "But I don't think she's feeling relief."

"You don't have to think about her at all," Haymitch said.

I creased my eyebrows at his words. "I kind of do," I said. "She gave me the best gift anyone's ever given me. Besides Pearl, she's the only person I should be thinking about. I wish there was a way I could thank her."

"So she doesn't want any contact at all?" Finnick asked. "No calls, no letters, no photos, no nothing?"

"Nothing," I said. "She didn't even want to preliminarily meet me, which was odd. Usually birth mothers are big on the whole interview process. But not this one. I don't even know her name." I smoothed Pearl's light, thin hair down as it stuck up in tufts on her little head. "But she gave me you," I said. "And that's something I'll never be able to repay her for."

After the guys left, I laid Pearl down in her crib as I made myself dinner, then took it into her room so I could sit in the rocking chair and eat it while she slept. Though I knew in the next months I wouldn't be getting adequate sleep by any means, I was wired. I didn't feel the slightest tinge of exhaustion, probably thanks to the adrenaline coursing through me.

I had a daughter. I was a father.


	5. Five

**PEETA**

At the end of the first week that Pearl was home, I was getting used to her routines slowly but surely. Her birth mother's 48-hour grace period had passed days ago, and it was official that she was mine. It was a beautiful, relieving feeling.

She slept for the bigger portion of the day, with plenty of feedings and diaper changes in between. The lack of my own sleep was catching up to me, but it was nothing I couldn't handle.

I was swabbing her skin with a warm, wet washcloth at the kitchen sink when my phone began to buzz from a few feet away. From where I was standing, I could see that it was my mother calling. I turned back to my baby as she fussed from the cool draft of the air, and continued to wash her; getting in the creases behind her ears, under her chin where the formula sometimes dripped, and under her armpits and legs.

"We're gonna get you all clean," I said. With a giggle, I added, "Pearly white." She squalled and squirmed, not liking the temperature without being insulated. I said, "You'll laugh at that when you're older."

My family had been dying to see Pearl all week, but so far I hadn't let them stop by. Finnick and Haymitch were the only people who had met her, and that was all that I could handle. A newborn was a lot of work, and I wasn't ready for our routines to be upset yet. I wasn't ready for the ruckus that my family would bring; when I pictured my mother, father, brothers and their kids parading through my front door, it made me shudder.

"You'll meet your grandma eventually," I said to Pearl as I gently dried her off. I redressed her in a onesie with covered hands and feet, and then held her close to my chest. Being close to my body and heartbeat, she calmed down considerably. I was slowly learning what comforted her and was able to make her feel better after I tried a few different options. Usually she was hungry, tired, dirty, or just wanted to be close to me. My favorite was definitely the last option. If I had the choice, I would never put her down.

I had taken eight weeks off work, and then I would have to go back and Pearl would go to an upscale daycare in the city. I had already visited there and was able to see how nice their facilities were, so I felt okay about sending her there. I didn't feel great about leaving her all day, but I had to make money somehow. I also didn't love the idea of sending her off for someone else to take care of, but there was not much I could do about it. I was finding caveats in single parenting that I hadn't ever thought of before; there was no taking turns, no complete trust within another person, and no sharing the joys, either. I could tell my family and my friends about her little accomplishments as much as I wanted, but they would never understand in the way that a spouse would, the way that a mother would.

As Pearl fell asleep in my arms, my mother kept calling. I laid my daughter down in her crib gently and called my mom back, knowing she would pick up on the first ring.

"Nice of you to call me back," she snapped. Suddenly, I regretted ever doing so.

"Hi, mom," I said, and could hear the exhaustion in my voice. "What's going on?"

"We want to come over and see the baby," she said. "It's almost been a week. You're keeping her away from us on purpose, aren't you?"

"No, mom, I'm not," I said exasperatedly. "I've just been really busy with her."

"I raised three kids, Peeta, you don't need to tell me how busy it is with a newborn. But I also know they sleep more than they don't sleep, so there's been plenty of time to call me back."

"I don't want a big crowd over here," I said. "If you want to come, it can only be you and Dad. Pax and Rye can come some other time, but not now. They can wait until she's a little older."

She grumbled under her breath, not liking my compromise. "That's pretty unfair, don't you think?" she asked. "You got to meet all their kids when they were newborns."

"She'll still be a newborn in a week or two, mom," I said. I was trying to stand up for myself; I didn't want to lose my gall. "They're just a lot. I'm not ready for all that commotion, and neither is Pearl. So it's either just you and Dad, or I'm going to have to ask you all to wait."

She was quiet for a moment before she finally agreed. "Fine," she said. "But your brothers won't be happy."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. But that's my choice right now."

When my parents came by my apartment the next day, they brought a big casserole with them and other various homemade food items that could be stored and refrigerated.

"I know you're not a new mom or anything," my dad said, "but it has to be hard to find a chance to cook for yourself. So we tried to make you stuff to get you through."

"Thanks, you guys," I said, my tone warm. I was holding the baby, so my dad set the food on the kitchen island. I led them into the living room and we all sat down on the couch. "Mom, Dad, this is Pearl Ember, your granddaughter."

Her eyes were open and her mouth was moving, which usually meant she was hungry, but it would be a few more minutes before she started to cry.

"Hi, Pearl," my dad said, hunching his shoulders to make himself smaller. "I'm your grandpa." He looked up at me. "She sure is beautiful, Peeta."

"Thanks," I said, giving him a sideways smile. "I think so, too. Do you want to hold her?"

He nodded, and I set the baby gently into his big arms. He smiled down into her face and she grasped his finger tightly, staring up at him with the same intensity.

"Well, don't hog her," my mom said, and I chuckled as Dad handed Pearl over to her. "Hi, honey," she said. "I'm your grandma." She cooed to her for a little while, and then kissed Pearl's forehead. "She looks just like you did when you were this age, Peeta."

I scoffed lightheartedly. "Don't all newborns look the same?"

"I'm telling you, there are similarities," she said, then pressed a finger to the baby's chest. "This birthmark is interesting."

"I think so, too," I said. "The nurses were calling it an angel kiss. They said it probably won't ever go away."

"And it shouldn't," my mom said. "She's perfect. You are very lucky."

 **KATNISS**

It was hospital protocol to push me out to the parking lot in a wheelchair. Madge had bought a car recently, so she was there to pick us up and bring us home.

I felt empty. I stared straight ahead with a lifeless expression on my face, my body feeling weak and useless as I hobbled to the back seat. Prim's hand stayed on my back the entire time, guiding and comforting me at the same time. Johanna was in the passenger's seat, so Prim sat in the back middle seat right next to me; one arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. I didn't spurn her touch; instead, I let myself give in to it. I shrank my body as best as I could and folded myself into her side. No tears came, but I felt more hopeless than I'd ever felt in my entire life.

No one spoke and I was glad for it. When we got back to the house, all three of them helped me get inside. Prim supported my body and Madge and Jo got the bags and other various things that I had brought to the hospital. When we got inside and Prim got me to the couch, I realized I was still clutching the baby blanket tight in my fist.

I looked down at it and couldn't put a word to the amount of loss that I felt. I pressed the fabric to my face and breathed as the three girls puttered about the house, making sure everything was in place. I could still smell her.

"Did I do the right thing?" I asked, almost too quietly to be heard.

My breasts ached with excess milk. I needed to be feeding her; it was all going to waste. The nurse said my supply would dry up in a few days, but that I should be taking painkillers until then because it would be highly uncomfortable. The area between my legs was so incredibly sore that I couldn't even bear to sit on the couch without a pillow underneath. All of the effects of having the baby I still carried with me; she was the only thing missing.

I looked up from my lap to see three pairs of eyes on me, not a single one of them knowing what to say.

"Of course you did," Prim said first, setting down a blue sweater she had been folding and walking over to me. She didn't seem to have much more to say, but I couldn't blame her. I wouldn't know what to say, either.

"Of course you're going to doubt yourself." I looked up and was surprised at the fact that it was Johanna talking, her tone soft and unassuming. Comforting, even. She wouldn't meet my eyes when she spoke, though. "A huge thing just happened to you. You had a baby, Katniss. That's…" She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes glistening. "That's bigger than anything any of us have ever done. Right now, we can't even come close to understanding how you feel." She sighed. "But you chose adoption while you still had a relatively stable, non-hormonal head on your shoulders. You knew it was the right decision then, and I still believe that you chose right. You said it yourself, you're not ready to be a mother. Sure, you could've done it." She shrugged. "And you probably would've been good at it eventually. But that's not where your life is right now."

"You should feel proud that you went through with it," Madge said softly. "Your baby completed someone else's family."

I started to cry; fat, hot tears rolled down my cheeks in droves. "I miss her," I sobbed, and grabbed either of my shoulders with my hands and leaned forward, trying to quell the cramps in my stomach. "I have all this pain and nothing to show for it. She's gone, and she's never coming back."

There wasn't anything more that any of them could say. Without looking up, I knew I wasn't the only one crying.

That night, I laid in bed next to my sister. My room was warm and snug and Prim was sound asleep just inches away, but I felt alone. I didn't know my body anymore; what I used to be so familiar with felt like it wasn't even mine to begin with. I realized that now I would judge everything else in my life pre-baby and post-baby.

I also knew that outside of Prim, Madge and Johanna, no one could ever know that I did this.

Along with the guilt weighing me down, the bitter taste of shame was in my mouth as well. I was inadequate; the only reason I gave up my child is because I was selfish and because I wouldn't be able to take care of her on my own.

To me, she didn't even have a name. To the family who was raising her, she had a name, routines, a personality, a future.

To me, she'd always be the newborn I held for just an hour.

I pictured what her life might look like without me. What would her adoptive mother call her? Something normal like Sophie, Mia, or Jackie? Or something off-the-mark, like Shiloh or Mercy? I debated naming her in my head, but couldn't think of anything that fit.

I wondered who she would look like, and just as that thought crossed my mind something else bigger hit me. She was born perfectly healthy, not affected by the copious amount of alcohol I had drank on the night of Room Seven. That either meant that she was Peeta's child, or that she was very lucky. I started to cry thinking about, once again, how self-absorbed I was.

She was better off with someone else taking care of her. She deserved a better mother than I would ever be.

I hardly slept those first few weeks after I came home from the hospital, partially due to the pain my body was in and partially due to the fact that I couldn't get my infant daughter off my mind.

But as time crawled by, I was able to think of other things. I had just graduated from DePaul and was on the hunt for my first real job. My life was changing, and as I got busier and busier, it became easier to clear my mind of her. I stopped wondering how she looked, what her first word was, when she walked, or how she was growing up. I stopped wondering if her adoptive parents would tell her the story of how she came to be theirs, of if they would tell her at all.

As the years passed, it was rare that I ever let the thought of her cross my mind. Prim moved out of the walk-up in Lincoln Park and in with her boyfriend, Rory, in Lakeview, so I made our place into a home that was just mine. I dated a handful of guys, ranging from a baseball player to a stock broker, all of whom fell short of my expectations. After each relationship ended, I told myself that I didn't have time for men, anyway. I had a lot on my plate; I was moving up in the career world and interviewing for grant writing positions after I found that it was a strength I never knew I possessed.

I had shed my skin and become an entirely new person. I was happy, fulfilled and flexible. I played tennis once a week with Madge and went running every morning with Johanna. I saw Prim almost every weeknight when her boyfriend, the police officer, was on duty. We were as close as ever.

It was like the baby never happened.

The night before my big interview, Prim was over and lying on the couch as an episode of Grey's Anatomy played on the TV.

"What is this, like the 33rd season?" she asked, through a mouthful of Ben & Jerry's ice cream. "Ellen Pompeo has to be so tired of it by now."

"It's making her money," I said with a shrug.

"But seriously. How many storylines can they go through? There's only so many realistic medical emergencies before they start making up stuff."

"Well, you are the nurse. How about you go write for them?"

Prim giggled. "You're the one who's gonna be a bigshot grant writer."

I raised my eyebrows and pointed my spoon at her. "Do not jinx it."

The job I was interviewing for the next day was for the Boys & Girls Clubs of Chicago, and it would be the highest paying position I'd had to date. It had been five years since I graduated college, and I'd had pretty good jobs, but nothing of this caliber. I wanted to be hired someplace where I'd be taken seriously, and I knew that the Boys & Girls Club administration team would be a good place for that.

"You don't need all that juju shit," Prim said, rolling her eyes. "You got this in the bag."

"Well," I said, "you never know."

Our conversation died away and was directed back to the show, even though neither of us even knew what season Grey's was on at that point because it had been going for so long. We didn't care much, though, it had been our casual-watching show for years.

On a commercial break, Prim set her empty carton of ice cream on the coffee table and sat up on the couch with her legs crossed in front of her. "I think Rory's going to propose," she said.

"What?" I hissed, pulling my spoon out of my mouth. "When? How do you know?"

"He's dropping all these cute hints," she said, a faint blush finding its way to her cheeks. "I don't know when. Seems like soon."

"I'm surprised he hasn't talked to me about it," I said.

"He knows that you don't keep anything from me," Prim laughed. "I'd know before he even got done telling you."

I laughed along with her. "God, you're right."

If possible, we'd grown even closer since she moved out. "When he does it, I'll call you and put you on speaker so you can hear the whole thing happen," she joked.

"Oh, yeah, that'll be great. I'll be so happy to be right in the middle of the action," I said, and chuckled.

"Hey, what ever happened to that guy I met a couple weeks ago?" she asked. "What was his name, Quinn?"

"Phillip," I said, rolling my eyes. "Turned out just to be a hookup."

"Aw," Prim said. "Damn."

"I didn't think he was going to be much more," I admitted. "I don't really want anything more."

"Pretty soon, you'll be too busy with this new job anyway," she said, smiling and wiggling her blonde eyebrows. She stood up from the couch and threw her trash away, then checked her phone. "I should go home; the episode's done and it's getting late." She walked over to where I sat on the armchair and kissed the top of my head. "Let me know how it goes tomorrow. Call me right after."

"I will," I told her, and watched her as she got her stuff around to leave. "Safe trip home. Text me when you get there."

"Love you," she called out over her shoulder, and I returned the sentiment.

Once I was alone in the house, I let out a long breath and turned the TV off. I cleaned up the kitchen and then headed to my room, where I changed into my pajamas and collapsed onto my bed in a huff.

I really needed this job. My interview skills were hit or miss; there was no telling how I'd do tomorrow no matter how much practicing I did. I relaxed as best as I could and tried to tell myself that whatever happened would be the right thing, and I'd just have to do the best that I could.

When I showed up to the Boys & Girls Club administration office, I smoothed down the front of my pantsuit to make sure there were no wrinkles, and also to get the excess sweat off of my palms. I stepped through the front doors and was directed towards a waiting room, where I sat with my legs crossed and my foot bouncing uncontrollably. I wrung my hands and went over what I wanted to say in my head, letting my lips form the words just barely, and was only jarred out of my own head when I heard my name called.

"Katniss Everdeen?"

I looked up from my lap and my stomach plummeted to my feet.

Standing only feet away with a smile on his face and his hand outstretched towards me was no one other than Peeta, Peeta from Room Seven.

That night came rushing back to me as I stared at him, mouth gaping like a fish. Time had stopped, and my thoughts were going a thousand miles an hour. He looked the exact same; right down to the way his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the forearm and the kindhearted sparkle in his sky blue eyes.

I paused just slightly and then shook his hand, wondering obsessively if he remembered me. By the look in his eyes; congenial and cordial, it didn't seem that he did, but I had no idea. He might just be a good actor.

"I'm Peeta," he said. "Follow me this way, we can talk in the conference room."

I nodded shakily and walked a step or so behind him as he led the way. He waved hello to a few people as we walked by, and I kept my eyes directed straight ahead. I watched his firm shoulders move in subtle manners beneath the expensive fabric of his button-up, and remembered the way that they looked bare, supporting his arms as he hovered above my naked body.

 _Holy shit._

As I sat down across from him, all I could do was picture him naked. Instead of seeing him sitting in the swivel chair on the other side of the table, I saw him with his head between my thighs as he made me come that night.

 _Holy shit_.

I never thought I would see him again. I practically choked when I realized the fact that he might have a daughter out there somewhere in the world that he had no idea about.

Every instinct that I had was screaming at me to get up and run out of there as fast as I could, but I didn't move. I needed this job, and I knew I had to stay. I was an adult. I could deal with this.

My brain could say that all it wanted to, but it didn't stop ever single nerve ending in my body from firing and trying to force me to get up and get the hell out.

He asked me a slew of questions; questions I don't remember answering, but I was pretty sure I kept my cool. My hands stayed folded on the table and my tone was conversational and light, I didn't think I showed any nerves whatsoever. Inside, my brain was on fire and my chest felt so tight that I was sure I'd have a heart attack any minute.

"Thank you so much, Katniss," he said, once it was over. "You did say your name was Katniss, right?"

I nodded, flashing him a close-lipped smile.

"Interesting name," he said. "Where did it come from?"

"My dad named me," I spat out, my hands growing sweaty again. I tried to wipe them on my pants inconspicuously once again. "He's dead now."

Peeta widened his eyes. "Oh, geez, I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine," I stammered. "Happened a long time ago. It's over now, way over. I'm okay. I'm perfectly okay."

He laughed and opened the door back out to the lobby for me. "I'm glad to hear that," he said. "Anyway, Katniss, I'll be in touch, okay? I'll have an answer for you by the end of this week. I'll give you a call."

I thanked him and somehow kept my cool as I walked outside. Once I was out of the building, I pressed one hand to my chest and let myself say, "Oh my fucking god," out loud.

I called Prim right away.

"Prim, Prim, Prim, Prim," I said, my brain going way too fast for my mouth to catch up. "I just got out of my interview and-"

"Oh, how did it go?"

"And the person who interviewed me! Primrose, Peeta fucking was my interviewer."

"Wait, what?"

"Peeta," I growled under my breath, just in case any employees who would know his name happened to be around. "Peeta from Room fucking Seven five years ago."

"No," she said.

"Yes."

"Peeta…the Peeta who you slept with and who possibly got you pregnant and whose possible daughter is with an adoptive family somewhere out in the universe?"

" _Yes,_ that Peeta. How many other ones do you know, Prim?"

"Holy shit," she said. "Oh, my god, Katniss."

"I know. Believe me, I know. And I know I'm not going to get the job because he had to have recognized me, right? And that's a conflict of interest if I ever knew one. I just know I'm not going to get it, and that's just so fucked up because that whole shit show happened five years ago. And how was I to know that he worked here? Maybe he didn't even work here at that point. I don't know. God, I really needed this job, and my sluttiness ruined it for me."

"So, he did remember you?" she asked.

"He didn't say," I replied. "Probably wanted to keep it professional. He was probably embarrassed, too. God, I'm mortified. I was never supposed to see him again, _ever_."

"Jesus, that's so weird," she said. "But maybe you will still get it. You never know."

I scoffed. "I'm not getting my hopes up. As usual, I ruined everything."

 **PEETA**

On my way to Pearl's school from work, I tapped my thumbs on the steering wheel and sang along to New Romantics by Taylor Swift, of which I knew every word because of Pearl's current obsession with the singer.

I pulled up to the building and walked to the door with a spring in my step, then smiled at the teacher in charge of signing kids in and out of the after-school program. "Peeta," she greeted me. "Nice to see you! Pearl had a great day, she was in the Mini-Chefs program today, right down the hall." She laughed. "She was telling everyone how she already knew how to do all of the material because of you."

I chuckled. "Typical P. Braggadocios, just like her dad."

The teacher rolled her eyes, knowing I was joking as I headed off to get my daughter. I peeked my head in the rectangular window on the door, and waited for her eyes to meet mine. When she finally saw me, she jumped up from the tiny chair she was sitting in and sprinted to the door, which she proceeded to throw open.

"Daddy!" she cheered, and launched herself into my arms.

I picked her up off the ground and spun in a circle so her legs swung. "Hey, pretty girl," I said, as I kissed her head.

"You're early, daddy!" she said happily when I set her feet back on the ground.

"I know. I got done with all my stuff at work so I could come see you," I touched the tip of her nose. "Go get your stuff. Let's get outta here."

She skipped back into the classroom, gathered her backpack, and said goodbye to her teacher. When she came back out to me, she tucked her little hand inside mine and walked alongside me on our way out, matching my pace just perfectly.

"How was your day?" I asked. "I heard you were in the Mini-Chefs program today. How was that?"

She gave me a face. "I knew everything already."

I laughed with her as we walked down the steps. "I've taught you well, huh?"

"Mm-hmm."

I helped her into her booster seat, tightened her belt, and then got in place to drive. We got on the road, and Pearl was jamming along to New Romantics, which was still playing. She started chatting with me about Taylor Swift, and I grinned back at her in the rearview mirror as she talked on and on.

When we got home, I carried her inside and she pressed the button for the elevator, as usual. I unlocked the door once we got upstairs, and she tossed her backpack down haphazardly and rushed off to her room to change out of the uniform that was mandated by her school.

She came back out in a pair of green leggings and a Taylor Swift shirt that we got from the 1989 Tour the summer before last; it was much too big for her, but Adult Small was the littlest size they had left in this style, and it had been the one she wanted. It was thin and white with Taylor's polaroid on the front; it had also cost me a lot of money for the quality it was. It was in the laundry almost every week, and one of these days I was sure it the threads would just pull apart.

"New shirt on, I see," I joked, and she did a twirl before pulling herself up to one of the high, spinning chairs that were next to the breakfast bar.

"My favorite shirt," she said, after taking a big sip of the glass of water I poured for her.

I made us a quick dinner, and we ate while making light conversation. "Don't get too full, I hear you're going to make a special treat at your sleepover tonight," I said, wiggling my eyebrows. "How fun does that sound?"

She sighed like the weight of the world was braced upon her five-year-old shoulders. "I guess."

"You guess?" I asked, nudging her arm. In new situations, Pearl was notoriously shy. That night, she was supposed to go to a sleepover at her friend Evelyn's house, but she was the same level of nervous for it as she was excited. "You love Evelyn, honey. It'll be a good time."

"She has no daddy," Pearl said, setting her fork down. As usual, she needed no coaxing in finishing her plate. Even through her nerves, she was a good eater. "Just a mommy."

"Well, sometimes that happens," I said. "It's not really much different from how you just have me."

"Yeah, except for I don't even like mommies," Pearl said, her cheek squishing against her hand as she rested it there. She hopped down from the table and headed off to her room, and I saw her pick up her cat on the way there. She turned around on her heel and walked back to me with the cat bundled in her arms. He was almost as big as she was, especially with all of his crazy long fur.

"CB says he'll miss me too much," she said quietly.

I raised my eyebrows at the cat, who was looking at me with malicious yellow eyes. Against his dark gray fur, they were quite menacing. We had a hate-hate relationship, me and that damn cat.

"Me and Crusty Bread will be fine on our own for one night," I reassured her.

" _Daddy_ …" she groaned, rolling her gray eyes with a hint of a smile on her lips. "That's not his name."

"Ugh. Sorry. Crazy Basket."

"Daddy!" She giggled and hugged the cat closer, and he obliged her. As usual. If I even so much as looked at him the wrong way, I'd get swatted, but Pearl could do any old thing to that evil creature and get away with it. "His name is Cheese Bun."

"Right, right, right."

We'd had the cat since Pearl was two. Cheese buns had always her favorite pastry that I made, so in her two-year-old mind, it was only fitting to name her new pet after her favorite treat. They'd been inseparable since they were both babies.

She walked away again and I cleaned up the table, checking the clock on the microwave once I was done. "It's about time to go, P," I called. "Grab your bag and come get your shoes on."

She dragged her feet down the long hallway, but did as she was told. I felt bad as I was essentially forcing her to go have fun, but I knew she needed help with socializing. If that meant force-feeding her friends to her, then that's what I would do. I didn't want her to grow up with a debilitating shyness that would stick with her the rest of her life.

I knew I was probably overreacting, because she was only five. But at the same time, I knew she'd probably have a blast once she got there and realized how much fun she could have even if she was away from me.

When we got down to the ground floor, she asked me, "Are we riding in the car?"

"I thought we'd take the train," I said. "Uncle Finn is going to meet us at Lake and ride with us to Lincoln Park and then drop you off."

"Are you guys going to go drink beer after you drop me off?" she asked, swinging my hand.

I chuckled. "I don't know, maybe. Why, you wanna join us?"

She looked up at me with hopeful eyes. "Can I?"

"Sorry, P, I was joking," I said. "Plus, you can't drink beer anyway."

"It's a grown-up drink," she said. "But I could have lemonade."

"Some other time, munch," I said, and we both saw Finnick in the distance. He was wearing jeans and a gray sports jacket, his hair styled immaculately as usual.

"Hey guys!" he called when we got closer, and then lifted Pearl off the ground and over his shoulder as she laughed hysterically. "Have you seen your daughter, Peeta?" he asked, looking around dramatically, which made Pearl's blonde hair swing around with him. "I thought you said she was with you."

"I thought she was…" I said, pretending to look around. "Last time I looked down she was walking beside me. Now she's just…gone."

"Huh," Finnick said, "too bad."

"Uncle Finn, let me down!" Pearl laughed, pounding on Finnick's back.

He set her back down on the ground with a big smile, and then mussed her hair. "Hey, P," he said. "Your hair's a little wild."

"Yeah, 'cause of you!" she said, and did her best to flatten it.

We walked down to the train platform and waited for it to come, making light conversation along the way. When I saw the headlights in the distance, I held Pearl from behind by her shoulders and kept her close to me, even though I knew she wouldn't do anything rash. She'd grown up in the city, but still I felt like it was going to eat her alive.

"Hold on like I showed you," I said to her when we got on and discovered that there were no open seats. We stood close to priority seating; Pearl with one hand on the bar and the other arm wrapped around my leg, and Finnick and I holding the bars on the ceiling.

The train ride to Lincoln Park wasn't too long, and her friend Evelyn's house was pretty close to the stop, near DePaul's campus.

"This is pretty," Pearl said as we walked through campus.

"This is a college," I said. "Where you go after high school and get even smarter."

"Am I going to go to college, daddy?" she asked, looking up at me with wondering eyes.

"I want you to," I said.

"I want to go here," she said, and Finnick chuckled.

"Get that wallet ready now," he said, as he elbowed me lightly.

At Evelyn's house, Finnick waited at the bottom of the steps and I walked Pearl up to the door and rang the bell. The girl who came to the door didn't look old enough to be the mother, but she definitely wasn't Evelyn.

She introduced herself as Bristel, Evelyn's nanny. Evelyn showed up behind her moments later, a bright smile on her face as she said hello to Pearl. Pearl was still halfway behind my leg, even as Bristel spoke to her and told her how much fun they were going to have.

"Come on, P," I coaxed, kneeling down to her level. "You got this. And if you get scared later, just call me and I'll come get you."

She blinked slowly. "You will?"

I nodded. "Of course. I know you won't have to call, though, because you'll have such a good time. Trust me, okay? It's always scary your first time. Pretty soon, you won't even want to sleep at our house anymore because sleepovers are so fun."

She raised one shoulder to her ear and looked as shy as ever, but stepped forward through the door anyway. "I'll call you if she's not doing so good," Bristel said with a lasting smile, lingering in the doorway.

"She'll be okay," I assured her. "She just needs a little time to get used to it. Thanks for being so understanding."

"Oh, no problem. I know how it goes; Evelyn can be the same way… Pearl's lucky she has you. See you tomorrow, Peeta," she said, using my name pointedly. "Or maybe tonight, who knows."

I nodded and chuckled, then gave Pearl a kiss on the top of her head. "I love you, munch. Be good for Bristel, okay? I'll see you later."

"Bye, daddy," she murmured, her chin tucked to her chest.

I trotted down the steps back to Finnick as Bristel shut the door.

"I thought she would've grown out of that shyness by now," he said as we started to walk.

I shook my head. "I thought school would get rid of it, too. It's so weird. Around people she knows, like you and me, you would never peg her for a shy kid. But once she gets around new people, god, she turns into someone else."

"You're good at dealing with it, though," he said, and opened the door at State, which was a bar just down the street from Evelyn's house. "Even if we did have to come to this place that's hardly a block away when there's much better places downtown."

I smiled guiltily. "It's her first time away from home. It's weird for me, too."

"And it was just the nanny there? No parents?"

"Apparently she just has a mom. I don't know, maybe she had to work late. But yeah, that was weird. The whole nanny culture in this city is insane."

We had a few drinks, but nothing that was enough to get either of us drunk or even buzzed. After a while, as predicted, Finnick got onto the subject of work.

"So hey, that girl who came in and interviewed today," he said, looking at me suggestively. "She was pretty hot."

I scoffed. "Is that seriously all you think about?"

"You're a fuckin' liar if you're telling me you _weren't_ thinking about it," he said, stirring the ice around in the bottom of his drink. "Not really much of a chest, but she did have a nice little ass."

"God, Finn, shut the fuck up," I said. "Seriously. You can't say shit like that anymore. Well, you really never could, but now like…no. That's not okay."

He rolled his eyes. "Get off your soapbox. I'm not some pig like Cato, I just have eyes. Ever since you became such a social justice warrior, I can hardly say anything around you without getting reamed for it. I'm just a guy. Being a dude."

I narrowed my eyes in his direction. "A guy being an _ass_ ," I said lightheartedly. "And I'm not a social justice warrior, I just have a kid. A daughter, to be specific. And when I think about her getting older and guys like fucking _Cato_ saying that shit about her, well, it gets me pretty heated. As you might imagine."

"Okay, okay, okay," he said, bobbing his head. "Saint Peeta, I get it. Princess Pearl comes before everything else."

"Well, you're not wrong," I laughed.

" _Anyway_ ," Finnick said. "About the girl in the office today. Hot or not, how'd her interview go? Are you going to give it to her?"

I gave him a look at his choice of the phrase 'give it to her', knowing exactly how he meant it. "She was very good," I said. "Really professional. Nervous, but that's to be expected. It'll go away. Yeah, I think I am gonna offer it to her. I'll give her a call on Monday morning, have her in by midweek." He opened his mouth to say something, but I beat him to the punch. "Do not try anything with her," I said sternly. "We're not doing the whole inter-office relationship thing. They are always messy." He folded his hands and tipped his head to one side. "It's not a good idea."

Finnick chuckled. "You underestimate me. I have Annie. And I'm a lot of things, but I'm no cheater."

"You had no problem commenting on the girl's tits and ass four seconds ago," I pointed out.

"Just because I have a girlfriend doesn't mean I'm blind," he said. "If she would've been there, she would've noticed the same things."

"Doubtful," I said, sipping the watered down Sprite in my glass. I was about to switch the subject, but my phone started to ring in my pocket. I answered even though it was not a number I recognized, and then heard Bristel's voice on the other line.

"Peeta," she said, "Hi, it's Bristel. I think Pearl's gonna need you to come pick her up. She's not having a very good time over here, and I think she wants to go home."

"No problem," I said. "I'm right down the street. Tell her that I'll be there in five."

When Bristel answered the door, I heard Pearl's wet sobs from a few feet away as she shoved her shoes on. She was in her pajamas; velvet pink leggings and a Selena Gomez Revival Tour shirt that we'd gotten at the concert just a couple months ago when she was in Chicago.

"Daddy," she said sadly after she got her shoes on. She walked slowly over and then collapsed against me, her body limp against mine. I picked her up and she rested her head on my shoulder, facing out, and I patted her back comfortingly and thanked Bristel for trying.

I walked down the steps with Pearl in my arms and Finnick bid us goodbye after I called an Uber to take us home.

As we waited for the car, I kissed the side of my daughter's blonde head. "It's okay," I whispered. "I'm here now."

She tightened her arms around me. "I want to go home," she whimpered.

"We're going," I said. "Don't worry. I got you. I got you."

Pearl fell asleep on the Uber ride home and didn't wake up on the trek up to our apartment. I laid her down in her twin-sized bed and brushed her curls away from her face, then kissed her temple.

"I love you," I said quietly, so not to disturb her. "Always. I love you for always."

The next morning, I felt a small pair of hands on my face to wake me up. "Daddy," Pearl whispered, and then climbed into bed with me. "Are you awake?"

"Am now," I said, my voice low. "What time is it?"

It was still mostly dark in my room, but I could see hints of early sunlight through the slatted blinds. "Daddy, I have a secret," Pearl said, curling up into herself.

I frowned. That phrase was a common one for kids, but also one that set parents on edge. I didn't like the concept of Pearl knowing things that counted as 'secrets,' especially when she had just stayed over at someone else's house. I was more protective of her than I'd ever been of anything, so hearing her say that was unsettling.

"What do you mean, a secret?" I asked. "I thought we didn't keep secrets around here."

"Bristel told me," she said cryptically. "It's about you."

That made me even more confused. "What is it?"

Pearl giggled. "She said that she likes you. Bristel likes you, daddy."

I sighed and rolled my eyes to myself. "That was your secret?"

"Yes," she said. "She talked on the phone and I heard her say it. Do you like her, too?"

I shook my head. "No," I said. "Not at all."

"I think she wants to marry you," Pearl said. "Daddy, is Bristel going to be my mom?"

"Pearl…" I said, sounding a bit incredulous. I wrapped one arm around her and held her close. "No. Don't worry about that. I don't know if I'll ever even see Bristel again. Just because someone likes you doesn't mean you have to like them back, right? Those are her feelings, but they're not mine."

She nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"So no one is marrying Bristel. Not me or you."

She laughed at the last part and then opened her arms up for CB, who had just jumped up on her side of the bed.


	6. Six

**KATNISS**

I got the call on Monday morning. I was sitting on the couch drinking coffee when my phone rang with a number that wasn't in my contacts. When I picked up, it was Peeta himself offering me the job that I had been so convinced that I wouldn't get. My first day was on Wednesday, and when I hung up I felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off of me.

I got dressed and hurried to Prim's apartment, where I knew she would be. She buzzed me in and the first thing I did when I saw her was throw my arms around her shoulders with a huge hug.

"I got the job!" I cheered, and she held me at arm's length after we broke apart. "My first day is Wednesday."

"Oh, my god!" she said, clapping her hands together. She was still dressed in her pajamas and Rory was just around the corner, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"Sorry, Rory, I didn't mean to wake you up," I said.

"It's fine," he said. "Congratulations." He walked over, hugged me and gave me a kiss on the temple.

"I'm so happy for you!" Prim said, giving me another hug. "When did you find out?"

"Just now," I said. "Peeta called me himself."

Prim's eyes widened. " _Peeta_ called?" I nodded. "And you still think he doesn't remember you?"

I shook my head. "He didn't say anything. I really don't think I would've got the job if he did." I tapped my chin as I thought back to the night we shared. "I don't think I ever told him my name. And that was when I dyed my hair red. Maybe he just doesn't remember my face."

"I mean, you both were drinking," she said. "Either way. You got the job!"

On Wednesday morning, I was standing in front of the full-length mirror in the hallway broken out in a cold sweat. I held my third and fourth outfit choices up to my body, still on their hangers, and sighed. I'd been trying to figure out what to wear for the past 45 minutes, and I wasn't any further than I was when I started.

"Shouldn't matter this much," I muttered to myself, under my breath. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

I threw the clothes options on my bed and heard the front door shut downstairs. "Katniss?"

"Up here," I said dejectedly. Prim appeared at the top of the stairs within moments, looking peppy with a smile on her face.

"Are you excited for your first day?" she asked.

I sat on the edge of my bed in my black bra and underwear. "I would be if I could figure out what to wear. Oh, and if I wasn't having the nervous shits every five minutes. That'd be good too."

She stifled a laugh. "I can help with one of those things. Let me pick your outfit, you go downstairs and make yourself some breakfast." Before I could interject about not being able to stomach anything, she stopped me. "You need food in you. It'll make you feel better. I'll force feed you if I have to."

I gave in and stood up from the bed, heading towards the door.

"Here, take your robe," she said, tossing it to me. "The shades are open."

I did my best to keep my breakfast down, and was happy with the outfit that Prim picked out for me. When I was all ready to go, I had on a black pencil skirt with an emerald green blouse tucked into it, a black blazer on top just in case it got chilly in the office.

Prim lint-rolled me as I stood by the door in my black pumps and then looked at me proudly. "You look great," she said, beaming.

"Thanks," I said, and my voice shook.

"You're gonna _do_ great," she assured me.

"I hope so."

She gave me a hug and then walked with me out the door, locking our arms together. "Call me on your way home and tell me all about it. I love you."

I gave her a kiss on the cheek. "I love you, little duck. Thanks for helping me."

When I walked into the office, both my palms and my upper lip were sweating. I swiped my hands on my skirt and then dabbed my face with a balled-up Kleenex I found in the bottom of my purse. "You got this," I whispered to myself right before I walked in.

As I lifted my head on my walk in, I discovered that Peeta was right there to meet me. I hadn't expected that.

"Morning, Katniss," he said, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Hi," I said, my voice squelched. "I'm early. I'm sorry."

"No, it's good!" he said, keeping that smile. "Better early than late." I nodded and followed him into the main part of the building, where he led me to my office. "So this is all yours. You can obviously decorate it however you want, it's all empty and ready for you to just make it over. And it's right next to mine."

"Favoritism already," a voice said. I looked over my shoulder and saw an attractive man who looked about Peeta's age with piercing aqua eyes. He stuck out his hand and I shook it, conscious of my damp palm only after I let go. "Finnick Odair. I'm the site coordinator here, and also Peeta's right hand man."

"Nice to meet you," I peeped. "I'm Katniss."

He flashed me another dazzling smile. "Nice name."

"Thanks." I blushed and found it hard to look him in the eyes. His presence, unlike Peeta's, was highly intimidating.

After Finnick walked away, Peeta touched my shoulder gently. "Don't mind him. He seems like a lot. He's really not, not at all." I smiled weakly. "He just takes some getting used to. He's a nice guy under all that…show."

Later that day as I was getting my office organized, Peeta popped his head inside the door. "Hey, Katniss," he said, as he made his way inside. "Can I interest you in a welcome lunch? The company will pay for it; I can get some people together, see who wants to come and all that. We like to do it for all the new employees."

It wasn't something that I was crazy about, but there was no way that I could say no. "Oh, um, sure," I said. "Sounds good."

"Great!" he smiled. "I'll go see who wants to come and meet you back here."

He hurried off and I continued my preliminary work, only stopping when I sensed him in my doorway again. I looked up and saw that he was alone, which I hadn't expected. "Apparently everyone is too busy to welcome you," he said. "But I'm not. So I guess it's going to be a lunch for two." He chuckled. "You okay with that?"

"Sure," I said, even though I felt my face heat up. In such close quarters with Peeta, I was worried that he would recognize me and my job would be ripped out from underneath me. "But if you don't want to, you really don't have to worry about it. Honestly."

"Of course I want to," he said, leading the way out of the office. "We haven't had a good grant writer here in years. I have a feeling that you're going to be the one who saves us."

"Or the one that totally ruins your life," I joked, and he laughed along with me.

"I mean, you could be right," he said. "You never know."

We sat down across each other in the café section of Mariano's and ate the deli food that Peeta put on the work card. "So, Katniss," he said. "Tell me about yourself." I responded with a scoff. "Okay, that was stupid. I guess we can start with…where are you from?"

"Here," I said, but then shrugged one shoulder as I chewed my sandwich. "Well, the suburbs. Buffalo Grove."

"Oh, really," he said, his interest visibly piqued. "I'm from Evanston. So not that far from you at all."

I raised my eyebrows. "That's cool. Yeah, me and my sister grew up there. I moved to the city when I started at DePaul; I lived on campus for a year then moved to an apartment in Wrigley, and now I live in a walk-up in Lincoln Park. Prim, that's my sister, she used to live with me up until a few years ago."

He nodded. "I love Lincoln Park. It's so family-friendly."

"Where do you live?" I asked.

"The Loop," he said. "Right by the Chicago Theater. You know the corn cob buildings?" I did. "I live in those."

"Wow," I said. "Those are nice."

"They've served me well," he said. "It's a good place to raise my daughter, though you might think the opposite at first."

My heart sunk with reasons I couldn't quite explain. "You have a daughter?" I asked. I was blindsided by this fact; it seemed like time should've stopped for him during the five years we were not in contact. I knew that thought was stupid; he didn't even remember who I was as we sat across from each other. Why would he put his life on pause for a college girl he slept with once that he met at a trashy club?

"I do," he said, his voice beaming with pride. "Her name is Pearl. I just cleaned out my wallet, so I don't have a picture of her on me right now. And I left my phone charging at work. But trust me, she's a cutie."

"I don't doubt it," I said. "I mean...with you as her dad, it'd be pretty impossible for her not to be."

He shot me a crooked smile and I felt a flush work its way up from my chest to the tips of my ears. "I wish I could take that compliment," he said. "But she's adopted."

My mouth went dry and I suddenly lost the ability to connect my thoughts to my words. "Oh…um." I could barely stand to talk about adoption. It just wasn't something that I ever did. "That's great. Of you. For her. For you, too. Adoption is great," I stammered.

He looked at me funny, and I couldn't blame him. I would've looked at me funny, too. "Do you have kids?" he asked.

"Me?" I said, my voice rising about ten octaves. "Oh no, no, no. Kids? No. I…" I waved my hands in a scatterbrained sort of way. "Too many things going on. Could never do that. No… not right now, at least!" I let out a forced sounding, pathetic chuckle. "No kids for me."

"Well, you're young yet," he said. "How old did you say you were?"

"I didn't," I said. "I'm 27." He was 28 when we met, which would've made him now 33. He didn't look a day over 25; and I would've never been able to guess his age had I not rudely asked him five years ago.

"Oh, yeah, you have plenty of time," he assured me.

We spent the rest of the lunch talking incessantly, with me only getting mildly nervous a handful of other times. When he checked his watch, he was surprised to find out that we were due back to the office almost an hour beforehand, and had gotten so carried away with our conversations that we hadn't realized how much time had passed.

When he dropped me back off at my office, he touched my shoulder in a friendly, casual way. "I had a really nice time," he said. "We should go again soon."

My heart felt like it was about to beat through my chest. "Yeah," I said. "We should. If you don't get us fired first for coming back so late."

He chuckled. "I do the firing around here. I can put in a good word for us."

That night when I went home, the only thing on my mind was Peeta. I ate a light dinner and then went upstairs, exhausted after my first full work day, and ran the bath for myself.

I put in some lavender oil and lit a candle, then tied my hair up and sunk underneath the water. It felt so good after my long day; I let my head rest back against the tub and closed my eyes, feeling all of my muscles slowly release their tension.

Peeta had continued to make conversation with me for the rest of the day. Stopping by my office to tell me little things about the job, once even to drop off a cookie that he made the night before. It had tasted professional and I could hardly believe he made it himself, and we had laughed over the fact that I didn't believe him. He was easy to talk to, and even easier to look at.

I'd already had him in bed once, but I'd be lying to myself if I said I wouldn't take him again. Later in the day he had showed me something on the computer, and just watching his strong, callused fingers fly over the keyboard forced me to remember what all they were capable of doing to my body.

I was being pathetic, I knew. Since he had a daughter, he most likely had a wife. And probably it was the same wife that he had cheated on with me five years ago.

I didn't let myself linger on that fact for too long, though. I wasn't going to act on my crush, so it wasn't my problem. My fantasies were my business; no one else had to know what went on in my mind. _Especially_ not Peeta, no matter how much they involved him.

I slipped my hands away from the sides of the tub and soundlessly put them under the water, where I rested them over my breasts. With my eyes still closed, I skimmed my thumbs over the pricks of my nipples and my hips involuntarily squirmed from the attention. A smirk pulled at my lips; it had been a long time since I did something like this for myself. Sure, I had slept with my fair share of guys during the past few years but no one was as good as my own hands. And even more, no one's mouth was as talented as Peeta's.

I smoothed my hands down the plane of my ribcage and then gripped my thigh with my left one as my right one found its way in between my legs. I closed my eyes and pretended as best I could that I wasn't feeling my own fingers; that, instead, it was Peeta touching me. I imagined him sitting in the bath across from me, there was plenty of room, and leaning over to steal touches and kisses. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than that. I let myself want it, too.

I pushed two fingers inside my body and drew my lower lip between my teeth as I circled my clit with them. I felt my chest begin to heave as I came closer, and I was so caught up in pleasuring myself that I didn't hear the front door slam shut or the heavy footsteps on the stairs.

"Hey, Katn—oh, Jesus fucking Christ."

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open and my hand flew out from underneath the water to rest back on the lip of the tub where it had initially been. Johanna was standing there in the bathroom doorway, dressed in her running gear with an exasperated look on her face.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" I asked shrilly.

"Have you ever heard of answering your phone?" she asked, wagging hers back and forth in the air.

"I didn't bring it in here," I said, trying to force my shoulders to relax.

"I see that. You were a little busy with other things. Sorry for interrupting, by the way."

"I was _not_ ," I insisted. "I was not doing that."

"Oh, yeah, okay," Jo said sarcastically. "I know an almost-orgasm when I see one. And I'll admit it was pretty fucking rude of me to take that away from you, but…what can I say."

I glared at her. "What do you want, anyway?"

"To see if you wanted to go running. Obviously, you and your hand are on a date, though."

"Would you stop?" I asked, practically begging.

She laughed. "Lighten up, brainless, we all do it. I used to hear Madge buzzing away long into the night when we lived together."

I squinted my eyes shut. "Please stop. Visuals. The visuals."

"Speaking of visuals, Jesus Christ. Who were you _thinking_ about?" she asked, raising her thin eyebrows. "Hot guy on the train this morning? Your old flame, Gale?"

"Sick," I said. "I wasn't thinking about anyone. I wasn't doing that."

" _Katniss_ ," Johanna said, rolling her eyes. "Quit being so goddamn pure for one second."

She stared me down, and I tried to outlast her. I couldn't do it, though. "Fine," I said, crossing my arms. "My new boss. You happy?"

"Wait, wait, wait," she said, mentally backtracking. "Wait just one second. I know perfectly well that your hot new boss is _Peeta_ from Room Seven."

Fuck. I didn't think she knew, so that way we could just talk objectively about Peeta and his hotness. Now I had explaining to do, and all the fun was taken away. "Who told you?" I asked.

"Primrose, obviously. She's got a big ass mouth, Katniss. I can't get you to tell me a secret, but I can't get her _not_ to."

"Okay, yeah, so Peeta's my boss."

"And you still have a boner for him. _Katniss_. It's been five years."

"I know that," I said, matter-of-factly.

"It's obvious to you, right? You guys need to fuck again. Get it out of your system."

I lowered my eyebrows. "He has a kid."

"So?"

"So obviously, he's married. And that's what kept me from him last time. I'm not doing that all over again, especially not the baby part."

"Did you see a ring?"

"What?"

She held up her left hand and pointed to her ring finger. "A _ring_ , dumbass. That's how you really know if he's married." She shrugged. "Dudes have kids without wives all the time. You don't know his status until you have proof."

I huffed. "I didn't look for a ring."

She chuckled. "I'd think that would be first on your list, judging by your raging boner for this guy."

"I do not have a boner for him," I said.

"A _raging_ boner," she laughed.

"Shut up," I said, narrowing my eyes.

Jo hoisted herself up to sit on the bathroom counter, swinging her legs as she did so. "So are you coming running with me, or not?" she asked. "If you're gonna sit here in the bath and be a lazy-ass, I'm leaving without you."

The water was already getting cool, and I knew I'd never be able to get back into the same mindset. "Sure," I gave in, and pulled the stopper so the water could drain. "Hand me my towel."

 **PEETA**

A couple weeks passed, and the late summer was slowly turning into fall. By mid-October, Katniss had been working for me for about a month and a half and we had grown closer as friends, too.

One morning before heading into work, Haymitch was tagging along with Pearl and me for our morning routine. We always stopped at Starbucks before I dropped her off at school, where I'd buy her a chocolate milk and get a coffee for both myself and Katniss.

"Who's the second one for?" Haymitch asked, keeping one flat hand over Pearl's head. She was totally used to it, complacently standing there drinking her chocolate milk through a straw as she watched our conversation.

"Coworker," I said dryly. I couldn't bear to meet his eyes when I said it, because I knew Haymitch would take any information I gave him and completely spin it into something else.

"Coworker, hmm," he said skeptically, eyeing the drink. "Female coworker."

I snapped my gaze to him. "You can't tell that from a drink."

"Yes, you can," he said. "Girly drink."

"Her name's Katniss," Pearl piped up, tipping her chin up at Haymitch. He bumped it with his knuckle.

"Katniss, huh?" he asked me.

I looked down at my daughter and pointed at her jokingly. "You, missy, are a narc."

She laughed, even though she had no idea what that word meant.

"Are you involved with her?" Haymitch asked.

"No," I said, leading the way out of the coffee shop. "You can get coffee for someone and not be involved with them."

He made a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat. "Yeah, every morning. And you talk about her so much that your five-year-old knows her name."

I knelt down and buttoned Pearl's peacoat up to her chin to protect her from the blustery wind, and she sipped her milk as I did so. Underneath, she was wearing a green, long sleeved dress with a wide neckline, so I was worried about her staying warm. "Leave it alone," I warned.

To be honest, I was wary about Katniss mostly because I wasn't quite sure how she felt about me. I'd debated asking her out to dinner more times than I could count, but there was always something about her that was held back and reserved. I was getting to know her, but I felt like there was always just a little bit more that she was hiding.

I had strong feelings for her, though, that couldn't be denied. I got butterflies in my stomach when I saw her come into the office every morning, and my skin burned wherever she touched me. There was a quiet magic about her that I could never put into words no matter how hard I tried.

As we got closer to the train, Pearl grabbed Haymitch's hand. "I'm going to work with Daddy today, Uncle Haymitch," she said.

He sipped his Diet Coke and raised his eyebrows at me over the rim of the can. "That sounds fun," he said. "Why's that?"

"Conferences at my school," she said. "I don't have to go today."

"Lucky you," he said. When it was time for us to part, he gave Pearl a kiss on the top of her head and then gave me a hug, which he almost never did. Close to my ear, he said, "Go for it with the girl." When he pulled away, he was smiling.

I grasped my daughter's hand and held it as we walked down the stairs to wait for the train. It didn't take long for us to get to work, and when we got to the building, she skipped inside and waited for me in the lobby. She'd been coming here ever since she was a baby, so she was comfortable and familiar with it. During the summer, she was a member at the Club, but not during the school year.

I got her set up in my office with a blanket and pillow on the couch against the wall, a Tupperware full of Barbies and Polly Pockets, and her iPad. "You good over there?" I asked from my desk, and got an affirmative response.

I worked for about a half hour as Pearl played, and then heard a familiar voice at my door, along with a light knock.

"Morning," Katniss said, and when I looked up at her, her eyes were gleaming.

I stood up from my desk and handed her the cup of coffee, which she took a sip out of. "Hey," I said.

"Perfect, as usual," she said, and gave me a quick hug.

Until then, Pearl had been out of sight. But hearing my movement, she stood up from where she had been playing on the floor and made her presence known, staring at Katniss with her huge, gray eyes.

"Oh, hi," Katniss said, using a tone of voice that I didn't recognize. Her body tensed up and it almost seemed like she wanted to walk away, but she stayed put. I had told her about Pearl before; how she was adopted and I had raised her as a single dad. She knew the whole story, but had never met her in person.

"Katniss, this is my daughter, Pearl," I said. "Pearl, this is my friend, Katniss. Can you say hi?"

Pearl walked slowly over to me from where she had been standing, keeping her eyes trained on Katniss the entire time. She wrapped her arms around one of my legs and hid behind me, pressing her body close to mine. "She's shy," I said, combing Pearl's hair away from her face with my fingers. It was getting longer seemingly by the day; tight blonde curls turning into spirals that flowed down her back. "She'll warm up to you eventually, though."

"That's okay," Katniss said. "Um, I have a lot of work to get done this morning, Peeta. So, um, I'll just… I'll see you."

She hurried away from my office, and I stared at her back with a confused expression on my face. I shook my head to clear it and knelt down to Pearl's level. "You don't have to be scared of her," I said, running my thumb over one of her cheekbones. "She's really nice. She's a good friend of mine."

She ducked her chin to her chest and hunched her shoulders, closing her body off. "Hmph," she whimpered, gravitating to me again.

"It's okay," I said, patting her back. I sat back down at my chair and pulled her onto my lap. "It's okay to be shy. But saying hello isn't so bad. I'm right here with you, you don't have to be scared. I know new people are scary for you, but Katniss is great."

Thinking back to the incident just moments ago, I came to the realization that the two of them reacted very similarly to each other. Katniss could hardly look at Pearl, and while Pearl was five and had the excuse of being a child, I had no idea why Katniss reacted so adversely.

"I'm just not used to being around kids," she said later, when I met her in the conference room. Pearl was napping underneath my desk, her stuffed giraffe under her arm and her thumb in her mouth. She had been quiet for the bigger part of the day, only raising her voice to a whisper when she wanted to talk. New people always made her retreat into her shell, but Katniss's flighty response probably didn't help matters much, either.

"Well, this kid isn't half bad, I promise," I said, laughing. "She's totally different once you get to know her. It always catches me off guard to see her like this, since she's so outgoing around people she knows. She'll win you over, just watch."

Katniss raised her eyebrows. "It doesn't look like she wants to."

"She'll come around," I said. "She's been shy her whole life. At first, she's not really much of a people person. Kind of like you."

She smacked my arm. "You're rude."

I laughed. "What? You can't deny it. You've said it yourself. You hate people."

"Okay, yeah," she admitted. "But you make me sound like a monster."

"You honestly are kind of a monster," I teased, and she shook her head with a smirk on her lips.

"I hate you," she muttered, and took a sandwich out of a Ziploc bag. It looked unsatisfying and dry, so I dug a cheese bun out of my lunchbox and handed it to her.

"Here, try this," I said. "I brought them because they're Pearl's favorite, but there's no way she can eat all these on her own."

I watched her take a bite and her gray eyes rolled back in her head. "Jesus Christ," she said. "This is amazing."

"Pearl named the cat after them," I said. "CB. When she was two."

Katniss chuckled and licked her fingers when she was finished. "That was so good," she said, but then cut herself off with her eyes directed at the doorway of the conference room. "Oh…"

I glanced behind me and saw Pearl standing there, rubbing her eyes and looking sleepy with the ribbon that had been tying half her hair back earlier in the day now resting on her shoulder.

"Daddy…" she said, and I outstretched my arms for her. She padded to me in her tights-covered feet and then sat on my lap, resting her head on my chest.

"Did you just wake up?" I asked, rubbing her back. I felt her nod against my shirt. "I was just letting Katniss try a cheese bun. I told her how they're your favorite, and now she really likes them, too."

Pearl reached for a cheese bun, which I gladly gave to her. She munched on it, and through a bready mouthful she said, "My cat's named Cheese Bun."

I could tell that Katniss was finding it hard to meet my daughter's eyes, but I couldn't figure out why. "I heard that," she said, a watery smile on her lips. "That's so funny."

"He's gray," Pearl said. "With yellow eyes."

"Oh, really, yellow eyes?" Katniss asked, resting her cheek on her fist. "My sister used to have a cat with really yellow eyes. His name was Buttercup."

"Reese's peanut butter cup," Pearl peeped.

Katniss giggled. "Yeah, I guess I've never thought of that. My sister actually named him after the yellow flower called buttercup. I never thought he was that pretty, though."

Pearl giggled a little, holding the cheese bun by her face. "CB is pretty," she said. "My daddy doesn't like him, though. He calls him all different names."

"Hey, hey," I said, patting her back. "No one ever said I didn't like him. Me and the old guy, well, we're just…we have our days." I winked at Katniss over Pearl's head, and her cheeks flushed.

"He does call him all different names. Daddy forgets his name is Cheese Bun."

"Well, what can I say," I said. "I'm getting old."

Pearl smiled up at me and I brushed the crumbs away from the corners of her mouth. "I really liked those treats, Pearl," Katniss said. "I can see why they're your favorite. They were so yummy."

"You can have mine," Pearl said, and extended her hand with half of a cheese bun left. At first Katniss shook her head, but Pearl insisted and she eventually took it.

"Well, thank you," Katniss said, taking a bite. "That's very generous of you."

We sat all three of us together and made light conversation until lunch hour was over, and it was time for us to head back to our offices. Before we parted though, Pearl walked ahead of us and I reached over and squeezed Katniss's wrist. She knew what I meant without having to exchange any words.


	7. Seven

**KATNISS**

I purposely left work that day without waiting for Peeta like usual. I hurried to the train and sat leaned forward with my elbows on my knees, staring down at the dirty floor.

I had just spent the day in the same building as my daughter.

Pearl was, with no shadow of a doubt, the baby that I had given up five years ago. I'd recognize that strawberry kiss birthmark on her collarbone anywhere. It all added up; the gray eyes, the blonde hair, the shy demeanor.

And she wasn't just my child. She was, biologically, both mine _and_ Peeta's.

I had never expected to see her again, not in a million years. I spent the whole day wondering if I was going to throw up, bolt out of the building, or both.

I couldn't believe that Peeta was fathering a little girl that he thought was in no way blood-related to him. He had no idea that he was raising a daughter who was just as much his as she was mine.

When I first saw her, it almost knocked me physically to the floor. With the blonde hair, she looked just like Prim did when she was that age, but wearing an expression of mine instead. Total distrust; that was how she was looking at me. I could hardly stomach it.

Luckily, as the day went on, we warmed up to each other. But even still, it wasn't without wariness from me. I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.

I didn't even want to think about what Johanna would say. I didn't want to tell her, at least not yet. I hadn't seen Madge in a while; ever since the weather got colder we hadn't been playing much tennis, and it would be a lot of work to catch her up on everything.

The only person who would understand this whole mess was my sister. I got off the train at Belmont instead of Fullerton and walked to her apartment without texting her a warning that I was coming. She buzzed me up and waited with the door open, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Hi," I said, sounding confused. "What are you so pumped about?"

"I'm glad you're here," she said, ushering me inside. From just a glance around I could tell she was alone. "I was just about to call you. Oh, my god, you're really not going to believe this."

I kicked my shoes off and sat down on her couch, letting my hand hang off the armrest. I would let her say her piece, then I'd break the news to her. I wasn't sure how she would react.

"That's crazy," I said. "Because I have something to tell you, too. That's why I'm here."

"You can go first," she said, practically buzzing.

"No, that's fine," I said, still feeling shell-shocked. "Go ahead. I… need time to process mine still."

"Okay, okay," she said. "I'll just say it. Rory and I are getting married."

My lips pulled up in a smile; a true, genuine one. "That's great," I said. "When did he ask? What happened?"

"Well, that's the second part," she said, and clasped her hands together tightly. "We initially wanted to wait a little longer. But now we don't really have any reason to wait, well, because I'm pregnant."

The smile on my lips from just moments before suddenly faded away to nothing. "Wait, what?" I had heard her perfectly fine, but I couldn't believe what she said. "What did you say?"

"I'm pregnant," she said again, and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

"Shit," I murmured.

Prim's blonde eyebrows knitted together as she scrutinized me. "Aren't you happy for me?" she asked. "I thought you'd be happy."

I stood up from the couch, feeling like I wanted to crawl out of my skin. I didn't know what I was supposed to say to her; it might've been the first time in my entire life that I didn't know what to say to my sister.

"Say something, Katniss," she said, angry. I obviously hadn't responded in the way that she'd hoped.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say," I said. I walked away from her into the kitchen, where I poured myself a glass of water from the Brita pitcher on the fridge. I walked back to the living room after taking a few deep breaths, but still didn't sit down. "What do you want me to say?"

Her lips were pursed into a frustrated scowl. "Congratulations? That's cool? Something?" She shook her head. "I thought you'd be excited."

"Don't you think that's a little hard for me?" I spat.

"It's been five years!" she shouted, throwing her hands up. "I thought this would be something that I could at least talk about now."

"Well, I guess you're going to do whatever you want," I said, turning my back on her and shoving my feet into my shoes.

"No," she said. "You can't just leave. You're going to stay and talk to me about this. What the hell is going on with you?"

"Nice of you to ask," I said. "Nice of you to realize that you're not the only one here on this earth."

"That's not true," she said. "Take it back. Stop saying things you don't mean."

"Just because I gave my kid up five years ago doesn't make it any less painful."

"You have to let her _go_ , Katniss," Prim said, sounding exasperated. "I thought you had. You haven't talked about her… I can't even remember the last time you brought her up. So excuse the fuck out of me for having a milestone and expecting my sister to be happy for me. I didn't even know you still thought about her."

"I don't," I said. "Well, I didn't."

She narrowed her blue eyes at me. "What do you mean?"

A sigh rattled from my chest. "I met her today."

The air in the room seemed to physically shift. "What did you just say?" Prim asked, but didn't wait for my answer. "How? What do you mean? How did you know it was her?"

My hands flew to my head. "I'm her mom. I just knew. She had… _has_ the birthmark. The one, you know…"

"Right there on her chest, the pink one," she finished for me, absentmindedly touching the spot on her own body.

"She had that. Her eyes were gray. Hair was blonde. She looked just like you. Her name is Pearl."

My sister's mouth dropped open, and then she covered it with her hand. "Oh, my god."

"Yeah. And to make matters worse…"

"What do you mean?" she asked. "How could matters be worse?"

"She was at my work today because Peeta brought her in. He was the one who adopted her."

Prim's eyes widened even further. "And she has blonde hair."

I nodded. "She's his."

Prim collapsed back against the couch, letting her back hit the arm on her way down. "Holy shit."

"So, yeah," I said, slapping my hands down on my knees. "That's how my day went. So, I'm sorry. I'd usually be over the moon for you. But I just had to spend the entire day with my daughter who I've done my best to forget about."

Prim shook her head. "I would've never… if I'd known… God, I'm so sorry. Horrible timing."

"Not your fault," I said. "I just don't know what I'm going to do now."

Prim stared up at the ceiling. "Her name is Pearl."

On Monday at work, it was hard to look at Peeta the same way. Of course, he had no idea why, and I wanted to keep it that way. At least for the time being.

I didn't have a clue how I was going to resolve this long term. At that point, I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other and take it from there. It was the best I could do.

We had lunch at Whole Foods, and I picked at my macaroni and cheese while he ate a cupcake from the bakery section. "I could make better, but eh," he said, shrugging a shoulder. He was trying to make me laugh, but nothing was working.

All I kept thinking about was our daughter; the little girl who was in school right now, not knowing that she had met her birth mother just days ago and had been growing up with her birth father her whole life.

"What's on your mind?" he finally asked, extending his fork towards me with a huge scoop of frosting on it. He liked the cake part of the cupcake, and knew that I liked the frosting best.

I closed my lips around his fork and he pulled it away. I raised my eyebrows and nodded. "Good," I said, then licked my lips. "But oh," I sighed. "There's a lot more on my mind than you want to hear."

He shook his head and chuckled. "Don't underestimate. Try me."

I tipped my head to one side, knowing how ready he really wasn't. I didn't plan on laying it all on him, though, just a portion of it. "My sister is getting married," I said. "She just told me on Friday. It's late-notice, I'm the maid of honor, all that stuff. It's not going to be huge, but still… it's a wedding and I'm expected to be a part of it. And now I have to get a dress, plan for it, look nice, and it's in a month. All that _plus_ find a date." I rested my forehead down on my palm and shook my head, totally exasperated. It was just one more thing on my list of things to worry about.

Peeta's tone of voice was light when he said, "Well, jeez, at least buy me dinner first."

I picked my head up and squinted at him. "What?"

He shrugged his shoulders, his palms face-up. "What do you mean, what?"

I braced my elbows on the table, leaning in closer to him subconsciously. "You'd go with me to her wedding?"

He nodded, but his confidence seemed a little shaken. "If you want-"

"Yes, of course I want you to," I said, reaching across and touching his wrist.

"Okay," he said with a bright, dazzling smile. "It's a date."

"It is?" I asked. "A date?"

"Like I said, if you want it to be…"

"I want it to be," I said, laughing. "But can it be? I mean, since you know, you're..."

He nodded, finally understanding. "Oh," he said. "The boss. Well, I'll have to check with the _boss_ , but my guess is that he'll probably be okay with it."

We both broke out in huge smiles then, and he held my hand in his and squeezed. My face was unbearably hot and the jitters in my stomach felt like they were going to make my whole body start shaking.

"Okay," I solidified. "I'm a little more excited now."

The following weekend, Prim and I went to the bridal shop where she tried on big white dress after big white dress, and I vetoed almost all of them. My job was to sit on the satin couch in front of the three-tiered mirror and wait for her, then be the voting panel until she found one that made her feel like a princess. I tried not to show my distaste, but it was hard to be happy-go-lucky all the while remembering that my turn to pick a dress was up next.

The one she finally picked was sleeveless and it hugged her slight body just perfectly. It had pretty detailing along the bust, and the train wasn't anything crazy long. It was perfect for her and sensible too, also within her price range, which was the saving grace.

"Okay, Katniss," she said, clapping her hands. "Now it's your turn. There's a bunch of purple ones picked out for you back there, just try on everything and come out and model for me. I can't wait to see!"

I trudged back to the fitting room, where a middle-aged woman helped me into too many dresses to count. I switched to autopilot as I stepped into both thick and thin skirts and got clothes-pinned in the back where there was too much fabric to fit me.

Nothing was good enough in Prim's eyes. This one was too light, this one too dark. This one too short, this one too long. This one too detailed, this one not detailed enough.

I pulled on one of the last dresses; a dark lilac one with straps that sat near the caps of my shoulders so my collarbone was on display. The waist was in the shape of an upside-down triangle, but not so dramatically that the eye would pick it out immediately. The material barely touched the floor when I put my heels on, and the bust was in a subtle heart shape. I spun in the mirror, actually liking the way it made my body look womanly instead of stick-straight, and walked proudly out to show my sister.

"Just so you know, this is like, one of the last ones," I said, but once I came out I knew I didn't need to say anything else.

"Oh god, I love it," Prim said. She looked to the consultant. "She looks gorgeous. Katniss, you look gorgeous. Look at you."

"I actually think so, too," I said, and stared at myself for a while. I had never spent much time thinking about my looks, but I actually thought that I looked pretty. I couldn't wait for Peeta to see me like this; it was the first excitement I had felt about the actual wedding so far. "Thank you for making me do this," I said to Prim.

She stood up next to me and kissed my cheek. "I should be thanking you."

On the day of the actual wedding, Peeta and I rode together. He pulled up to my house and helped me get my stuff into the back of his car, and I held my dress in a black garment bag on my lap during the ride there.

He kissed my cheek when I sat down, which made electricity run up and down my body. "You look pretty," he said.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I'm in less makeup than you normally see me in. Just wait until you see me later, all dolled up and stuff."

He kept his eyes on the road, but he was smiling. "I'm just saying, I like you like this, right now, a lot already."

I blushed. I couldn't seem to stop blushing when I was around him; he always knew just what to say. "You flatter me," I said. As we got closer to the small venue, I said, "It's a bummer that you don't know anyone and have to sit alone during the ceremony. But at the reception, she doesn't have a head table or anything. So I'm going to be able to sit with you. They didn't invite too many people, so it shouldn't be that bad."

"Katniss," he said, reaching over and capping a hand over my knee. "Don't worry about me. I'm here for you."

I tried to release my tension, but it was hard. My little sister was getting married. And not only that, I was bringing my boss who I wasn't sure if I was dating or not to the ceremony. This was all a lot for me to handle.

"Easier said than done," I said. "Are you going to be okay doing whatever while I'm in there getting ready and helping her?"

He held my hand. "Of course," he said. "I'll be just fine. You worry about you and Primrose. That's who matters today."

Inside my chest, my heart may have been spilling out and melting all over everything. No one had ever treated me as well as Peeta, especially not Gale. With him, he was always worried about himself and how he looked to everyone else. With Peeta, all he cared about was being there for me. I hardly knew how to accept it.

"Thank you," I said, sounding relieved. We pulled up to the little venue and he helped me get my things inside to the dressing room, but then made his way out after giving me another kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you out there," he said, and waved me goodbye.

When I went into the room, Prim was already in her dress, turning this way and that in the mirror. Johanna, Madge, and Prim's friend Delly were already all standing there, looking at her with awe.

"You look perfect, Prim," I said, setting my garment bag down on a nearby chair. Her hair had been done by Delly in an intricate up-do at the base of her neck, and her makeup, done by Madge, was demure and subtle. She was the perfect image of a blushing bride. "Just wait until everyone figures out you were knocked up once the baby's born."

We all busted up laughing, and I got a couple good smacks for my comment. But after that, Madge sat by down in a spinning chair and worked on my makeup while Delly got busy with my hair. We all made light conversation, and I directed it away from myself as best I could. I didn't want any of them asking who I came with, because I didn't want to get into it. They'd all see at the reception, anyway, but wouldn't be able to give me shit for it when he was sitting right next to me.

When all of us were finished getting ready, I slipped into my dress and had Prim zip me up in the back. I turned back around and her eyes were glassy as she looked at me and tipped her head to one side.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one crying?" I asked, giggling.

"Yes, but I'm the hormonal, pregnant one," she said. "So cut me a break. You just look so gorgeous. I never get to see you like this."

She cupped my cheek in one hand and I rolled my eyes. "Thanks a lot. 'You're so ugly most of the time, I forgot how pretty you are!'"

She nudged my shoulder. "You're so fucking annoying," she said, and gave me a hug. "I wouldn't want anyone else but you walking me down the aisle. Thank you for doing this."

"You're my baby sister," I said, my chin still latched around her thin shoulder. "Of course."

I had no idea that my stomach would be jumping as much as it was when I heard the first notes of the procession start to play. Prim's whole life was flashing before my eyes; the first moment I met her when I was barely five years old, when she learned to walk, her very first day of school, her first breakup, first day of college, and how close we'd never stopped being.

Now I was the one who was crying. I dabbed at my eyes with a tissue, and two doors opened so we could walk through. The audience turned around to look at us, and I caught one specific pair of blue eyes in particular.

My heart leapt, seeing him look at me in the way that he was. It was selfish of me to be so happy that his eyes were trained on me, not Prim, but I couldn't find it within myself to care. His smile, which lit up the room, said more than words ever could. I grinned in his direction, but kept my gaze forward as best I could. I didn't want to trip and make a fool out of myself during Prim's big moment.

The ceremony was a blur, but I did keep catching Peeta's eye during it. We'd lock in on each other, smirk, and then look away. I felt so beautiful standing up there in my fitted purple dress, holding both my bouquet and Prim's; I couldn't remember the last time that it felt so good that a man's eyes were on me.

Once it was over, we all headed to the reception hall and found our respective tables. Peeta enveloped me in a huge hug, and said into my curled hair, "You look gorgeous."

"Thanks," I breathed, and held onto him for a beat longer than necessary. "There was this one weird guy staring at me the entire ceremony."

Suspicion flashed across his eyes for a second until he realized I was joking. "I'll fuck him up," he said, bracing his hand on the small of my back as we walked to our table.

"My sister is the one he should've been staring at," I said, "but nope, he only had his eyes on me."

"Maybe he thought you were pretty much the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen," Peeta said, stealing a glance up and down my body. It didn't go unnoticed.

"He must be crazy, then," I said, and took his hand under the table. Madge, her boyfriend, Johanna and her girlfriend were at the table across from Peeta and me, and I felt their eyes on us. I wasn't ready to look over, yet, though. Right then, what we had was all ours.

Later in the night after dinner had been served, I spotted someone who I'd been dreading seeing all night. Prim was marrying no one else but Gale's little brother, so it was inevitable that Gale himself would be here.

We made eye contact from across the room and his recognition flashed across his face. With Clove on his arm, he made his way over to our table and politely squeezed his way past the other attendees to get to where I was sitting.

"Hey, Katniss," he said, and gave me a weird, chaste hug as I stayed sitting and he stood.

"Hi," I said tersely. "Gale, this is Peeta. Peeta, Gale."

They shook hands, and then Gale found it necessary to introduce the girl. "Uh, yeah, this is my girlfriend, Clove," he said, a pursed smile on his lips.

She extended her hand for me to shake, which I begrudgingly did, then she curled back into Gale's chest. "Fiancée, honey." She chuckled at me, like we had this ongoing inside joke. "He's still getting used to saying it. It's so new! You can introduce me like that, sweetie."

Gale laughed halfheartedly. "Right, my fiancée, Clove."

"Doesn't that sound so nice?" she asked him, and he nodded. She turned back to us. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

Peeta nodded. "Oh, yeah," he said, and I could clearly hear the sarcasm in his voice whereas both of them were oblivious. "Sounds amazing."

"To die for," I said, and forced a smile. "Nice to see the both of you again."

Clove opened her mouth to say something else, but the memory must have come rushing back to her. Color flooded her face, all the way to the tips of her ears. "Yeah," she muttered.

"You look good, Catnip," Gale said, touching my shoulder. "Really good. Happy for you. Glad to see you've moved on and you know, all that."

I was fuming. "Of course I've-" I started to argue with him, but then stopped myself. "You know what, thanks." I said. I crossed my arms and felt Peeta's arm snake around my lower back, keeping a steady hold on me. "Have a great night," I said.

"Kinda weird our little sibs are getting married, right?" Gale asked.

"Like I said," I said, my voice much too cordial. "Have a great night."

They got the hint at the same time, nodding and bidding us goodbye as they walked away. Once they were out of earshot, Peeta faced me with wide eyes.

"What the hell was that?" he asked incredulously. "And why did he call you catnip?"

"That," I said. "Would be my ex. The only really serious relationship I've ever had. And his _fiancée,_ or whatever the fuck, would be the bitch that he cheated on me with. Ignore the stupid-ass nickname."

He stewed over my words in his head, not saying much for a moment. "I could change part of that," he said. "I mean… maybe he doesn't have to be your only serious relationship. We…" he wrung his hands. "If you want, we could date. If you'd have me. God, I'm fucking this up." He let out a long sigh. "Katniss, will you be my girlfriend? That's what I'm trying to ask here. I've been trying to think of a way all night, and you just look so goddamn gorgeous, and-"

I shut him up by taking his chin in one hand and pressing my lips against his. A bold move, one that I normally wouldn't have done without alcohol, but my feelings towards him were so strong that nothing else seemed fitting.

Right then, it didn't matter how complicated things really were between us and how little he knew. What mattered was that in that moment, I felt like a beautiful woman. And in front of me was a beautiful man asking me to be his.

"Yes," I breathed after we broke apart, and his eyes were gleaming when I looked into them.

I didn't know what I expected him to say, but it definitely wasn't what came out of his mouth next. "We've done that before," he said, sounding bewildered.

I was at a loss for words. My mouth opened and closed like a fish, until I finally gave in to my stupidity and just made an affirmative sound. "Uh-huh."

"Room Seven. You're Lime Girl."

I snorted. "You really thought a lot of me, didn't you?"

"Oh, my god," he said. "I'm so sorry."

I wasn't really sure what he was apologizing for, but I knew I should be, too. "Don't be," I said. "I kicked you out."

"Yeah," he said. "But I should've been more upfront with you. I should've been clearer, more honest, it was over but I wasn't over her-"

I kissed him again, if only to get him to stop talking. That time, I held his face in both of my hands and he overlapped my wrists with his fingers, anchoring me there. When we pulled apart, he had the biggest, dopiest grin on his face that I had ever seen.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, curling a tendril of my hair behind my ear.

"I mean, I didn't think you'd forget me," I said, widening my eyes. "My ego was hurt. And then…I don't know. How would I? It was a lot."

"I didn't…"

"It's fine," I said. "Really." Suddenly, the realization hit me. "And thanks for letting me work for you. It was fun while it lasted."

He looked confused. "Are you quitting?" he asked.

"No…" I trailed off. "Aren't I fired?"

He chuckled. "No, no, no," he said. "Not only would that be pretty illegal, but it'd also be pretty damn stupid. You're fantastic at your job. And I happen to really, really like you."

I felt my face get hot again as I took his hands. "Well, then, let's go dance."

They played mostly slow songs, so I got to spend as much time as I wanted with my head on Peeta's chest and his arms wrapped low around my waist. I was practically exploding with happiness, and though there were plenty of eyes on us, I still felt like what we were beginning to have was just ours.

When the night was coming to a close, Peeta went to the bathroom and I was waiting by the door to leave when I felt a pair of hands spin me around by my shoulders.

"I can't believe you!" It was Johanna, with a devilish grin on her face. "You've been avoiding us all night."

"Have not," I said, my voice lilting.

"Liar!" Madge said. "You didn't tell us that you were bringing _Peeta_ …are you two a thing? Are you crazy, Katniss?"

"Probably," I laughed. "And I avoided you for this exact reason. I knew you were gonna Guantanamo Bay me if you got me alone, and would you look at that…" Just then, Peeta walked out of the bathroom, straightening his cufflinks, and I smiled at my two best friends. "I have to go now. I'll see you soon."

"Katniss, wait, you-"

"Gotta go!" I linked my arm with Peeta's and he smiled down at me, shaking his head like he knew I had been up to something. "What?" I asked, scrunching my nose.

"Nothing," he said.

"Ready to go?" I asked, and then stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. He nodded. "Let me go hug my married sister. Want to come with me?" He agreed, and we found Prim and Rory, who were still at the head table, pretty much lost in each other's eyes. "We're gonna head out, Prim," I said, and leaned across the table to kiss her forehead. "You are beautiful. The wedding was beautiful." I pointed a stern finger at Rory. "If you hurt her, Rory, I will fuck you up. Believe me on that one."

Prim giggled, and I didn't miss her eyes flitting over to Peeta. "Have you been drinking?" she asked me.

"Barely," I said, although it was probably true that I wouldn't have had such a loose tongue if I didn't have a little alcohol in me. It was just enough to free me up, not enough to get me drunk. "Not even buzzed. Just a little confident right now, that's all."

"Okay, okay," Prim said, and stood up to give me a hug. After she kissed my cheek, she whispered into my ear, "I can't believe you brought Peeta..."

"Love you, too," I said, pulling away. "I'll see you soon."


	8. Eight

**KATNISS**

Peeta and I walked out to the car hand-in-hand, and he even opened the passenger's side door for me once we arrived. "After you," he said, grinning.

"Why, thank you," I said as I got inside.

"Do you want anything before I drop you off?" he asked. "It's been a while since we ate."

I tapped my chin as the car revved to life. "Now that you mention it, I could go for some doughnuts," I said.

He belly-laughed, which was a sound I had not yet heard. "Alright then," he said. "Doughnuts it is."

We went through the 24-hour Krispy Kreme down the road, where we ordered a dozen assorted doughnuts. It was my job to hold the box on my lap, and as Peeta talked and drove, I couldn't resist the powdered ones. I snuck them into my mouth while he wasn't looking, even though he made me promise I wouldn't start eating without him.

At a stoplight, he looked over at me and raised an eyebrow at my state of affairs. "Did you eat all of the powdered doughnuts?" he asked, fully knowing that he caught me red-handed.

"No…" I trailed off, trying to keep the laugh out of my voice. It was impossible, though.

"Then what's that all over your face? And your dress?" he asked, pointing to my lap where cascades of the powder had fallen.

"That's…cocaine," I said, and we both started laughing uncontrollably.

"I hate you," he said as he started to drive again.

When we pulled up to my house, I worked up the courage to say what I wanted to. "You should come inside," I said. "You can spend the night. I mean, if you want. I know it's early with us, but… we've already kind of passed that milestone anyway, and-"

"I was hoping you'd ask," he said, and looked over his shoulder so he could parallel park the car. "I didn't want to seem forward."

"Typical," I said, and gave him a very powdery kiss.

"That's the only taste I'll get of those damn doughnuts thanks to you," he said, so I leaned over and gave him another kiss; this one much longer and more passionate. I had to anchor one hand on the console and the other on the driver's side door armrest to stay steady, and he helped by planting one strong hand on the small of my back. "I'll take it," he said breathlessly, once I pulled away from him. "Jesus, I'll take it."

"Let's go inside," I said, and led him by the hand up the front stairs that we had gone up together so long ago. Once we were inside, he spun me around so my back was pressed against the wall and braced his hands on it on either side of my head.

I felt my chest heaving as we stared into each other's eyes, communicating silently. "What?" he asked, ghosting his lips over the apples of my cheeks. My pulse was beating so hard that I wouldn't be surprised if he could feel it thrumming through my skin.

"Does it feel weird?" I asked, skimming my hands around to circle his waist. As I spoke, I began slowly untucking his dress shirt from his pants. "Being back here?"

"Déjà vu," he said, dipping his head below my jaw to press kisses along my neck. When his tongue made contact with my skin, I melted against him and my hands momentarily forgot what they were doing.

Peeta pressed a line of kisses from my ear to the slope of my shoulder, moving the strap of my dress away as he did so. He wrapped one arm around my back and unzipped my dress in one fluid motion, and it drooped on the side of my body that the strap was pulled down on. With more skin exposed, he laved my chest with warm, wet kisses, pausing to suck on the skin above the swell of my breast.

I lifted one leg and latched my ankle around the back of his calf, which pulled him closer to me and forced his body to pin mine against the wall. The pressure of his weight only excited me more, and I pulled his face closer by yanking on his tie forcefully, only to hastily untie it moments later.

I directed my attention back to his shirt; taking my time with each of the buttons, using only my sense of touch in the dim lighting. My eyes were closed anyway, there was no way I could open them with the way that he continued to kiss me. I'd never felt anything like it.

Once his shirt was unbuttoned, I forced it open to either side and dragged my fingers over his strong chest, interweaving them through the light smattering of his blonde hair. I pushed my hands over his shoulders, which forced the shirt to the ground, and he kicked it away from us.

"Now you're overdressed," he said, pulling his face away from mine. From the light of the street coming in from outside, I could see that his lips were red and puffy. I could only assume that mine looked the same.

"You're right," I breathed, and pushed my remaining strap off of my shoulder so my dress billowed to a purple heap on the ground.

I was left standing before him in a black lace thong and a strapless black bra; relatively simple undergarments because I hadn't expected to be doing this with him tonight.

"Fuck," he said under his breath, and his eyes burned over my entire body.

"Come on," I said, taking him by his wrist and leading him to my room. I walked in front of him purposefully; I could feel him staring at my ass until I turned around and sat down on my bed. I was still wearing my heels, and they clicked together when I crossed my ankles over one another. He took off his pants and then joined me on the bed in his boxer-briefs, making his way up from my feet as he undid the tiny buckles of my shoes and shucked them to the floor.

He kissed my shins and ran his hands roughly up my smooth, shiny legs, gripping my upper thighs tightly once he reached them. His touch made my muscles tense, and something deep within me hoped he would do the same thing over again that he'd done before. I hadn't experienced anything like it since.

"You looked amazing in that dress," he said, covering my body with his own and kissing his way up from my stomach to my sternum. "But you look even better now."

I let out a rattled sigh as he palmed my breast over my bra, deliberately running his thumb over my nipple. The throbbing sensation between my legs was uncontrollable at that point; my hips squirmed with the need for some sort of friction.

He was concentrated on the upper half of my body, and without words I needed to tell him what I wanted. I braced both hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him down, only to get met with a very confused stare in return. "No, no, don't stop," I said, widening my knees so he could fit more easily. "Just…" I directed him lower and flicked my gaze to my groin, and then his eyes lit up with realization.

"Happily," he said, with a hungry look in his eyes.

He pressed a kiss just below my bellybutton and held my hips in his hands; he was strong enough to manipulate me in any position that he wanted. He pulled my body lower and pressed my thighs out wider, curling his fingers around the tiny waistband of my underwear after he did so. As he pulled them down, I arched my back in anticipation for what I knew was about to happen.

When he flattened his tongue against me, fireworks went off behind my eyelids. I gasped and felt my muscles clench, but tried to relax against the mattress as he had his way with me. With his lips attached to the most intimate part of my body, he lifted his eyes and met mine, and that gaze alone almost made me come undone.

I held one breast over my bra, squeezing it to get myself closer, though I knew I wouldn't need help once he got down to business. Right then, he was tempting me. When his lips parted from me, I could feel his hot breath swirl against my skin, but he didn't stay up for long. He ran his tongue up the length of my sex and I whimpered, my eyebrows turning up towards each other. He quieted me with a kiss, propelling himself up from my waist up to my head. "You're beautiful," he whispered into my mouth.

I tasted myself on his lips, but I couldn't say that I minded it. He went back down and I held the back of his head as he finished me off, taking his time but not too much that it was torturous. As he brought me closer and closer to climax, I started panting and saying his name under my breath, and when it happened, it happened slowly and powerfully. My muscles clenched and unclenched, the sensation rippling through me like a strong, recurring wave. He stayed connected to me the entire time, not letting me have a moment's reprieve even as my hips twitched with the aftereffects.

"Oh, Peeta," I breathed, as he kissed his way back up my torso. He slipped his hands behind my back and unsnapped my bra with one fell swoop. And just like that, I was completely naked in front of him all over again.

He widened his mouth over my nipple and ran his tongue over it, forcing it to harden as he sucked on it. He kept one hand on the breast where his mouth wasn't, teasing me by rolling the nipple between his thumb and first finger. I ran my fingers through his thick hair and felt my center start to throb all over again; his body weight rested on top of mine was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I only wanted more of him; in fact, I wanted all of him at once.

Seeming to have read my mind, Peeta lifted his face away from my chest and pressed sweet kisses to my neck before ridding himself of his boxer-briefs. Only once he was completely bare did I remember how well-endowed he was, though last time I hadn't even been able to see him, only feel him. This time, I could clearly see what I was about to experience and I didn't want to wait a second longer.

"Condom, condom, condom," I panted, quickly gesturing towards my nightstand drawer. With one knee on either side of my hips, he leaned over and grabbed one, putting it on fluidly.

He seared our lips together as he entered me, and I opened my mouth against his as it happened. I had slept with a handful of guys in the years prior, but none of them had felt anything close to how he felt. I could already tell that I wouldn't last long; he filled me in every sense of the word.

"Fuck," I murmured, my lips hot against the dip of his shoulder as he pushed inside me again. I clamped my teeth down on his skin as he went in further, and my eyes felt like they were going to roll all the way back in my head.

"Christ," he said, and lifted his face to look into my eyes. When we locked into each other, huge smiles broke out on our faces and we started giggling uncontrollably as his hips continued to pump against mine.

He kissed my cheek and laughed into my ear, which gave me chills. "What's so funny?" he asked, though I had the platform to ask him the exact same thing.

"I'm just so happy," I said, and it was true. For the first time in a long time I was just simply, purely happy. "You make me happy."

When he came, we were kissing. I anchored my hands to either side of his face and felt his body shudder; his breath escaped in short hitches and then his head fell to my chest, where it stayed resting over my hammering heart. He gave me another orgasm just moments later with his deft fingers, all the while his lips were attached to mine, tracing me, memorizing me, making me his own.

 **PEETA**

Once we were both spent, Katniss pulled on a pair of polka-dotted hipster underwear and I redressed in my boxer-briefs and crawled under the covers with her. Our bare top halves were intimately pressed up against one another, and I could hear her heartbeat thrumming rhythmically right below her skin as I held her close.

"Hardly seems real," she whispered through the sleepy darkness. "Tonight."

I smiled and pressed a kiss to her hairline, breathing in her warm scent as I did so. "Pretty sure it was real," I said.

"I hope so," she replied, slinging one arm over my chest.

I ran her hair through my fingers with the arm that was under her head, knowing full well that I was putting her to sleep with the action. Her eyelids were blinking heavy and slow, and though she was fighting it, she was no match.

"Go to sleep," I whispered, and kissed her forehead soundly. "I'll see you in the morning."

She finally let her eyes close, and I watched her face as she slipped away from me and gave into the night. Her mouth slackened, her lips parting in the process, and her arms and legs twitched as she descended into the early cycles of sleep. I hugged her close, letting her know that I wasn't going anywhere, and tried to fall asleep myself.

I had barely closed my eyes when I heard a phone buzzing wildly on the nightstand. Not sure whose phone it was, I squinted through the darkness to see first if it was mine, and then if it was someone with an emergency. I told myself that only if it was Haymitch, who was babysitting Pearl, would I pick up.

But fortunately for me, it wasn't my phone at all. Mine was lying there on Katniss's side nightstand, as still as ever. The one that was going crazy with text after text was hers, which was closer to me. I didn't have any obligation to it, and for that I was glad. I laid my head back down on the pillow and pulled her warm, barely clothed body even closer to mine. She was sound asleep with her head in the crook of my neck, one arm still strewn over me. The covers were around our waists, so from the angle I was at I could just barely see the swell of her breast. I smiled to myself as I closed my eyes again, perfectly content with seemingly everything in my life at that moment.

The only thing that wasn't coming easily was sleep, because of Katniss's phone constantly vibrating behind my head. She stirred, subconsciously hearing it, too, and her eyelids fluttered. She made a small noise in the back of her throat as I situated myself again.

"Can you get it?" she asked, groggy. "Hang it up?"

I reached blindly behind me and squinted into the blinding brightness of her screen once I grabbed the phone. "Not a call," I said, seeing her sister's name and texts blowing up the screen.

 **2:03am – omg thats kinda fucked up that you brought him lol**

 **2:04am – but damn he is really cute**

 **2:05am – are you guys a thing or**

 **2:05am - katniss**

 **2:06am – are you awake**

 **2:07am – did you tell him yet?**

I hadn't meant to read her texts, but they confused me all the same. "What does she mean?" I asked, flashing her the screen. "About Room Seven?" I laughed. "You can tell her that I remember you now. Jeez."

She snatched her phone from me and then clicked the screen off. "Um…" she said, as she rolled over and set it back down. It didn't vibrate again. "No, that's not what she means."

Though she had been sound asleep just moments before, her voice was clear of any grogginess. She sounded fully awake, and on edge to boot.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. Suddenly, I felt completely awake too. The gravity of her tone was scaring me; this was starting to feel all too familiar.

She laid flat on her back and covered her face with her hands, and I'd be lying by saying that I resisted stealing a glance at her chest as she did so; it was put on full display. The plane of her ribcage showed through her alabaster skin as she inhaled deeply, and when she uncovered her face, her gray eyes were glistening with what looked like tears.

"What's wrong?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbow to get a better look at her. "What's the matter?"

"I have to tell you something," she said, sounding more timid than I had ever heard her, even when she first interviewed for the job. I tried to read her face, but couldn't come away with anything. It was too dark in the room, and she refused to meet my eyes.

"What?" I pressed. "You're really freaking me out."

"I know," she said, and then sat up fully. I sat up too, facing her as I sat cross-legged on the bed. She didn't make the move to put on a shirt, so neither did I.

"You _know_?" I creased my eyebrows and felt the urge to shake her, just to get out whatever she wanted to say.

"I know…" she trailed off, and stared down at the comforter between us. "I'm just going to say it. I don't know how else to do this."

"Okay."

"Pearl is your daughter." She lifted her eyes to mine for the first time since waking up and a laugh burst like a bubble out of my mouth.

"Great observation," I giggled, smiling even though I was confused. "You're telling me this at what, 2am, because why…?"

"No, Peeta," she said sternly. "Listen. Pearl is _yours_. Biologically. And I would know, because biologically…she's mine, too."

Her words hit me like a semi-truck and her eyes – her gray eyes that were suddenly all too familiar – were searing into me like a brand. I wanted to think she was lying, I even wanted to think that she was crazy. But some part buried deep within me knew that she wasn't. She lifted her hand and I saw that it was shaking, but I wouldn't let her touch me. "Peeta, I…"

"I have to go," I said, and practically leapt off the bed. I pulled my dress clothes back on as best I could, knowing I was fucking up the buttons on my shirt, but I didn't care. I picked up my wallet, shoved my tie into my pocket, and hastily threw on my shoes. I didn't say another word to her before I left her place, once again, in the middle of the night.

I drove recklessly all the way back to my apartment. In reality, I shouldn't have been driving at all, but I had no other choice. It wasn't like I was going to go back to Katniss's walkup the next day and pick up my car. That wasn't an option.

The drive back home was a blur. I parked the car and rode the elevator up to my place, feeling confused and out of it the entire time. My brain refused to process what had just happened; I felt like there was no way to unpack this, at least not tonight.

I tried to gather myself before walking in the door, knowing that Pearl would be asleep and I couldn't cause a ruckus and wake her up. With the key in the lock, I took a few deep breaths and centered myself, only opening it once I stopped seeing the rhythm of my heartbeat through my shirt.

Haymitch was on the couch when I came in, one arm resting on the back of it, watching Nick at Nite. I didn't whisper a hello or throw him a wave, I didn't do anything to acknowledge his presence. I set my keys in the bowl by the door, kicked my shoes off, and stood in the entryway, massaging my temples with my fingers and wondering how the hell I got into this position.

When I moved my hands away, Haymitch was staring at me with his eyebrows raised and wiggling. "You're home late," he said suggestively, conspicuously eyeing my disheveled getup.

"I just found Pearl's mom," I said, though I hadn't meant to. It was on the tip of my tongue, and it just came tumbling out with no permission whatsoever.

"O…kay…" he said, narrowing his eyes.

"She was my date." I sighed, sat down on the couch next to him, and he wordlessly handed me his can of Diet Coke in solidarity.

I sat on the couch in silence with him for a while, just watching whatever shenanigans that always went down on Full House go down for the millionth time. Somehow, at the end, Danny Tanner would always have a lesson for his girls that involved some kind of personal moral with a quippy joke. I laughed as I found myself wishing that he was here to figure out what the hell to do in my situation.

"You really think this show's that funny," Haymitch grumbled, one eyebrow raised in my direction.

I couldn't stop laughing at that point; it was all just so ridiculous. "No, no, I really fucking don't," I said. "What's funny is my whole entire life."

He looked at me like he thought I would dissolve into a full mental breakdown at any second. "Do you need me to stay here tonight?" he offered.

I sighed, catching my breath after my laughing fit. "It's late. Stay. I'm going to check on Pearl, then head to bed." I stood up, started down the hallway, then turned back. "The cat will wake you up early. Try not to get violent."

He grumbled something in response, but I didn't catch it before I turned off the light. I walked down the hall and creaked open the door to Pearl's bedroom that had been just barely cracked, and could see her sleeping soundly by the light that her bedside lamp gave off. CB was curled up in the bend of her knees, and he opened his mouth in a silent meow to me as I walked in.

"Keeping her warm?" I asked, and then knelt at her bedside. The cat laid his head back down, and I reached my hand up to slowly caress a few tendrils of Pearl's blonde hair out of her face.

If what Katniss said was true – and I still couldn't convince myself either way on that front – then I was staring into the face of a little girl who had been mine all along, not only legally, but by blood too.

She didn't so much as stir under my gentle touch, which told me that she was deeply asleep. I took advantage of her stillness and studied her face; looking at everything that could've come from me or Katniss. I couldn't deny that they had the same exact eyes; the shape, the color, the sparkle. Obviously, she had my hair. I had never thought to look for what was alike between us, so it was completely new territory for me.

"I don't know what's going on right now, P," I whispered, resting my head on her mattress. I could hear her soft breath going in and out through her nose, and I let my eyes shut. "But I promise I'll figure it out soon."

I hadn't actually known Katniss for very long, but I felt like I knew her well. She was not one to say something before thinking it over, or drop a bomb like that without some serious premeditation. Judging from what I knew of her, the fact that she thought she was Pearl's mother was not a rash estimation. Because she said it to me, in the dead of night no less, that told me that she knew exactly the can of worms she was opening.

As I stared at my daughter, I thought over all the aspects of her life that would change because of this, because of the handful of words that Katniss had spoken to me. I'd never look at this little girl the same way again; I wouldn't see her in a better or worse way, but my vision would indefinitely be different. I had no idea how I would explain it to her, or if I even would at this point in her life. I wondered if I should wait until she was a bit older and could understand the concept that I would be trying to put across. I had no answers, though I wanted badly to have answers for Pearl.

She had never been too interested in her birth mother; it wasn't something that was brought up often. Sure, it came up around Mother's Day and on the first day of Girl Scouts when we were told that only moms were allowed to accompany their daughters to meetings. There was an exception made for me, but Pearl felt wounded all the same. Her friends were curious as to why she didn't have a mommy, and they didn't understand the concept of adoption like she did. She had to live it. They didn't.

I let out a shaky sigh and stroked her arm. As I gazed at her, more and more anger for Katniss made itself known in my gut. For five years, the entire five years that Pearl had been my daughter, Katniss had merely been Lime Girl to me. Until the wedding when I realized that Lime Girl and Katniss were the same person, the girl from Room Seven with the bad dye job hadn't crossed my mind. Why hadn't she just told me? Though I had raised Pearl from infancy, I felt robbed all the same. I couldn't pinpoint as to why, but I felt an emptiness inside my chest because of the secret that she'd kept from me.

I rubbed Pearl's back and then softly kissed her cheek, which made her stir in response. Her eyes moved beneath her eyelids and then blinked open, staring into my face with sleepy haziness.

"Daddy?" she croaked, her blonde eyebrows creasing. It almost knocked me on my ass to see her gray eyes looking at me. Though I'd seen them every day for the past five years, I couldn't get Katniss's face out of my head. They were an exact match.

"Shh," I whispered, "I was just checking on you. Go back to sleep." I kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair back from her face. "I'll see you in the morning."

As I left her room, I turned on her music box and took one last look at her as I felt my stomach sink with guilt.

I went back into my room and laid in the dark, staring at the ceiling still dressed in the wedding clothes I never bothered to change out of. I couldn't believe that just hours before, my life had been totally different. And now, it would never be the same.


	9. Nine

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the last chapter, but there will be an epilogue posted tomorrow

 **PEETA**

Every Sunday night, Finnick, Cato and Haymitch all came over for dinner and to watch whatever sports game was on TV. Sometimes Cato would bring his kids, but this time he came alone. By the time they all got to our apartment, I was already in the kitchen getting things together to cook. Pearl was sitting on the counter, and when the doorbell rang, both of our heads turned towards the sound.

"Will you go let them in, honey, please?" I asked, crouched down to look in the cupboard where the pots were stored. "The snacks are already set out in the living room. And show them where the remote is so they can turn the game on."

She agreed complacently and padded off to answer the door. I heard all three of our friends' voices instantly; greeting Pearl and telling her how big she'd gotten. She squealed, probably reacting to Cato picking her up off the ground and flipping her upside down.

I was flustered, to say the least. I hadn't been able to keep my thoughts straight all day. Haymitch left in the morning before either Pearl or I were awake, so I hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him about what I'd let loose last night. I didn't want him to bring it up at dinner, but I didn't know how to get him alone before then.

As I heard them getting settled on the couch, I walked out of the kitchen as I dried my wet hands on a dish towel. "Hey, guys. Annie," I said, nodding my head in their direction. Annie was Finnick's longtime girlfriend, who sometimes came along if she felt up to it. Pearl had always taken a liking to her. "How does…" I slapped my palm to my forehead, remembering in just that instant that I meant to start cooking the roast first thing this morning. It had slipped my mind, and now there were no plans for dinner. "Goddamn it," I muttered under my breath, and only Finnick picked up on my displeasure.

"What's up?" he asked, taking his shoes off with his feet and pushing them halfway under the couch.

"I meant to make roast for tonight," I said. "But I forgot about it. So…uh, how does chicken sound?"

They all agreed, just like I knew they would. I was offering food and they were men without any refinement to their palates whatsoever. They'd eat cardboard if I put it in front of them with some salt and ketchup on it. "Annie?" I called out. "That okay?"

"Perfectly fine, Peeta," she answered. "Do you need any help in there?"

I declined, and huffed back into the kitchen and pulled out the ingredients I needed, including the vegetables that I started dicing after the chicken went in. I stared through the open kitchen window that led into the living room, where I could see our guests and Pearl laughing about something that she just said. I took my eyes away from everyone and centered them just on my daughter, putting on a show because of all the attention that she had. She was a little ham, that was for sure.

Now I knew she got that from me.

I half-listened to them and half paid attention to what I was doing. I could hear Pearl ask, "Annie, can you braid my hair?" Then a little while later, "Annie, what's a touchdown?" And then, "Annie, do you like green?"

As I smiled to myself, a sharp pain jolted up my hand beginning at the tip of my thumb. I looked down and saw the white cutting board stained with red and I realized I had cut myself while chopping and was bleeding pretty profusely. "Shit," I hissed, and grabbed the nearest thing, which happened to be a dish rag, and wrapped it around my bleeding digit.

I hurried out of the kitchen and into the bathroom, where I ran cold water over it until I could see the damage that I'd done. It was a long cut, but not too deep. Scary, but not hospital-worthy.

"What the fuck did you do?" Haymitch asked, appearing out of nowhere to lean into the bathroom. "Christ on a cracker, that's a lot of blood. Man period come again?"

"Can you shut up for a single second, please?" I snipped, crouching down to dig for the Band-Aids. The only ones we had were Dora the Explorer, so I unwrapped a few and wrapped them as best I could around my thumb.

I lifted my eyes and met Haymitch's gaze, and knew we were thinking the same thing. "I don't want to talk about it," I grumbled. "Not now. I shouldn't have ever told you in the first place."

"Yes, you should've," he said, not letting me out of the bathroom. "Listen. I'm not gonna say shit. But you have to figure this out."

"You think I don't know that?" I retorted, giving him a nasty look. "I haven't been able to think about anything else all day. Why the hell do you think I cut my finger? I know what I'm doing in the kitchen. I never do shit like that. The whole thing, it…it's making me crazy."

He nodded slowly and thoughtfully. "I think you'll figure it out," he said.

"Yeah, well, that makes one of us," I grumbled, and pushed past him.

I accidentally blackened the chicken because I had forgotten to set the timer on it and gotten distracted; I only remembered once the kitchen started smoking.

"Sorry about the chicken," I mumbled as we all dug into our food about an hour later. I helped Pearl cut hers, and could feel her eyes – her impossibly gray eyes – boring into me.

"Daddy, you never burn stuff," she said, her voice a bit pouty. "Why did you burn this?"

"She's right, Peet," Finnick said, his fork and knife poised with a bite of chicken in his cheek. "What's up with you? Got something on your mind?"

My cheeks flamed, though I hoped not visibly. "No, I, uh," I stammered. "Just was distracted thinking about work."

Finnick wiggled his eyebrows. "Yeah, _Katniss_ at work." Then he suggestively mumbled, "And _other_ places."

"I know Katniss," Pearl piped up, suddenly smiling, all poutiness disappeared. "She likes cheese buns, too."

Finnick leaned forward on his elbows. "Daddy made cheese buns for Katniss?"

Pearl nodded affirmatively, proud of her contribution. "Well, well, well," Finnick said, puffing his chest. "Looks like she's in like Flynn."

Pearl looked up at me for affirmation, but I gave her none. "I'm not thinking about Katniss," I insisted, continuing to saw Pearl's chicken into bite-sized morsels. "I'm thinking about the budget."

"Yeah fucking right," Cato said, and I shot him a look for his language. Pearl didn't bat an eye though; she was very used to our banter. She had grown up alongside it. "Budget my ass. You're thinking about the girl."

"She's not a… _girl_ , Cato," I said, rolling my eyes. "Here you go, baby." I pushed Pearl's plate in front of her and she picked up her fork to dig in. "She's a woman, but it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not thinking about it. So leave it."

Cato raised his eyebrows. "So leave it," he mimicked under his breath. "Damn." He and Finnick laughed, and Haymitch caught my eye. I gave him the most miniscule shake of my head that I could muster, and he directed his eyes back down to his plate.

 **KATNISS**

After Peeta left, I sat on the edge of the bed in just my underwear and stared out the window blankly. What had I done? I'd ruined everything. I had hoped, before telling him, that he wouldn't react so brashly. I had wanted him to stay so we could talk it over; bolting was not something that I expected him to do. And now that he did it, I wasn't sure if I'd ever see him again.

I could still feel the places on my body where he'd branded me with his electric touch. I crossed my arms over my chest and held onto either shoulder with my hands, leaning forward so my hair fell into my face. It wasn't my goal to ruin our budding relationship; I thought I had been doing the right thing by telling him early instead of waiting until we got more serious. I thought I had been being proactive. Apparently, he didn't see it that way. I didn't even know if he believed me, or if he just thought I was crazy.

My heart felt like it was splintering inside my chest. It was almost 4am and there was no one I could call. The last time I felt this alone was when I was pregnant with the child that was the main concern in my life all over again.

I stood up from my bed and walked over to my closet. I spent a while just standing in front of it and staring, even though I knew exactly what I wanted. I reached up to the top shelf and pulled down a big blue Tupperware bin, then dug to the very bottom of it without caring what other junk I was casting out onto the floor.

When I pulled it out, it was still as soft as the first and only day that I held it. Folded into a tiny square was Pearl's baby blanket – the one the hospital wrapped her in for the fleeting moments that she was mine, before she ever had a name.

I sat on the floor and ran my hand over it, remembering the moments when I had held her in my arms and nursed her. Before this, I hadn't let myself go back. The last time I thought about the baby I gave away was the first few days after coming back from the hospital, and after that I disciplined myself so she never crossed my mind. I hadn't even been sure that the blanket would still be up there, but was glad that it was. Keeping it was probably Prim's doing.

There was something inside the blanket, square-shaped and flimsy. I unfolded it and what came floating down to the carpet was a photo that I had never seen before.

It was of me, but I hadn't known there was a picture being taken. My hair was wet around the crown and my face was shiny with sweat, but I looked calm and serene. I was staring into the face of my daughter, the new life that I had just created. She was wrapped in the very same blanket that lay across my knees, and I was stroking her tiny chin with my thumb.

The moment came to life through the photo; suddenly, I remembered things that I thought had been lost forever. The sound of her breathing, the feather-light weight of her in my arms, the indelible ache in my chest from knowing that in the near future, I'd be handing her off to the person who would raise her. Little had I known that person would be Peeta, that person would be her biological father.

A tiny drop of water slid down the glossy surface of the picture, and I wiped it away. I was confused for a moment before I realized that it was coming from me, and that I was crying.

I missed him.

I needed her.

I stayed holed up in my house through the weekend and when my alarm went off on Monday morning, I didn't make any move to get up. There was no way I could go into work today and face Peeta. I wasn't sure if I would ever be able to look him in the face again.

But I was in the best job I'd ever had. There was no way I could give it up permanently, but today was out of the question. I didn't bother with calling in. There was no way he'd wonder why I was gone.

It felt like I had fallen asleep for seconds when I heard my phone ringing on my nightstand. I opened my eyes and saw that it was a little past 10, which meant that I'd been out for 3 more hours. Feeling groggy and out of it, I picked up the phone expecting my sister.

"Hello?"

"Miss Everdeen, I'm aware that you had a family function this weekend." It was Peeta's voice, sounding painfully businesslike. It made my gut sink to hear him talk to me this way. "But our policy requires that you request personal days in advance."

My mouth went dry and my hands felt jittery. "Oh, um, my mistake," I stammered, feeling incredibly guilty all of a sudden. I was an adult. I could deal with this like one. "I slept past my alarm. I'll be in on the next train."

I hung up the phone and rubbed my eyes roughly, groaning as I did so. "Fuck my life," I said loudly, and threw my covers off. It was going to be a long week.

 **PEETA**

Throughout the week, I'd done my best in avoiding Katniss. When we happened to cross each other in the hallway, we both stared down at the floor and refused eye contact, and I preferred it that way. I knew that things couldn't stay like that forever, but I didn't know what next step to take. My mind was clouded with emotions that I had trouble discerning.

On Friday morning, I was working on the computer when the phone rang, jolting me out of my trance. I jumped and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Peeta? This is Mrs. Cross, the nurse at CGS." Pearl's school. I immediately sat up straighter and felt my neck grow hot.

"Yes? What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing too bad," she said. "But Pearl has a fever, and when the fever comes, well, we don't really like the kids to be at school. Usually they're pretty contagious. We're going to need you to come pick her up."

I glanced at my agenda, seeing meeting after meeting. There was no way that I'd be able to get out of them, but I knew someone who would go get her for me. "I'm slammed at work all day," I said. "But I'm going to send her uncle, if that's okay."

Her uncle being Haymitch. I shot him a text asking him to go pick up Pearl and take her to his house until I could get there and bring her home. He begrudgingly said that he would, and I rested easy once again and left for my meeting that was just a few floors down from my office.

It went without saying that my attention was not focused on the content of the meeting. By the end of it, I had no idea what I had even been sitting there listening to, and it hadn't been worth it at all to attend. I got on the elevator shaking my head, and when the doors opened back up on my floor, I saw Pearl and Haymitch sitting in the lobby. Haymitch's face flooded with relief when he saw me, and Pearl's skin was sallow and her eyes were sunken, but she looked happy to see me anyway.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked, hurrying up to them both. I knelt down and hugged my daughter, confused by her clothes when I held her at arm's length to look at her. "And what are you wearing?"

"It was the only clothes Uncle Hay had," she peeped, sighing. She had on purple leggings that were supposed to be full length, but stopped around her mid-calf, and a long-sleeve-turned-3/4-length shirt with a butterfly on the front with most of its sequins long gone.

"The last time the runt stayed over at my house was two goddamn years old," Haymitch said. "I know she looks like a mess. But she upchucked on her other clothes, that's why I brought her. Didn't know what else to do."

"I…" One of my hands flew to my head as I rubbed my temples, trying to figure out what to do. "Thanks, Haymitch," I said, and clapped him on the shoulder. "You did what you could. I'll just keep her here. I got it now."

"Alright," Haymitch asked, with one of his feet was already going in the direction of the elevator.

He left, and I knelt back down to Pearl's level. "I have some of your extra clothes in the back of the car," I told her. "Let's go get you into something normal, all right?"

I got her changed into some clothes that fit and then brought her back upstairs. Now, she was wearing black-and-white striped tights, a white frilly skirt, and a gray tank top with a black cardigan on over it. I let her take her shoes off to be more comfortable, and she padded down the hallway to my office with her Mary-Janes in one hand.

"I'm really, really busy today, P," I said. "So I'm just gonna hand you this." I handed her the iPad I kept in the bottom drawer of my desk, and a pair of headphones. "And this." A pad of paper and a box of crayons. "And trust you to keep yourself busy. Okay? If you feel sick, just tell me. I really wish I could take you home, but I just can't today. You're gonna have to be a trooper for me. Can you do that?" She nodded stoically, accepting her mission. "Before you play, though, I want you to try and take a nap on the couch. I'm going to head to a meeting, and it'll take about an hour. If you sleep for about that long, you should feel better when you wake up." She laid down, tucking her knees up by her chest. My heart hurt as I watched her curl into herself, her thumb finding its way to her mouth in the way that it did only when she was sick or scared. "I'll be right down the hall in the conference room. If you throw up, come get me."

"Daddy?" she peeped, blinking up at me with her mile-long eyelashes.

"Yeah, babe?"

"Can you stay here next to me until I go to sleep?"

I sighed a smile and sat cross-legged on the floor, right next to her head. "Of course I can, baby girl. Just close your eyes, okay?"

She nodded and did as I asked, and I noticed the sucking motion of her lips slow to a stop only moments after her eyes shut. I gently kissed the top of her head, and then snuck out to my second meeting of the day.

When I got back, I tiptoed back into my office and hoped I would find Pearl still asleep. I peered my head around the corner, expecting her little body on the couch, but instead I saw nothing. Just her iPad, paper, and crayons strewn about the way she had left them before laying down.

I grumbled under my breath something about _hadn't I told her not to move? And of course what does she do?_ I couldn't help following up that thought with, _well, she is Katniss's child, too._

I shook the thought from my brain. I hadn't wanted Pearl in the office today for that exact reason; the mere thought of her being around Katniss sent my mind into a tizzy.

I walked towards Finnick's office, knowing that was probably where Pearl would head. I peeked inside, expecting to see her sitting on the floor with a nest of papers around her, but I only saw Finnick, sitting there at his desk with the phone cradled between his ear and his shoulder. He raised his eyebrows when he saw me, wordlessly asking me what I was doing, but I just frowned and shook my head. I didn't know where else Pearl might be, so I went on an office-wide search.

It didn't take me long to hear her voice. Never mind the fact that it was high-pitched and angelic and I could recognize my kid's voice anywhere, but it was the only child's voice in the building. I couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but she sure was being quite the little conversationalist to whomever she was talking to. I smirked to myself and shook my head, though I was proud of her for breaking through her shyness.

I continued following her voice until the end of the hallway, when there was only one office left. I had just passed my own, and the one that followed was Katniss's. I leaned on the wall outside the door, breathing steadily, and plunked my head against the wall as I heard Pearl continue to talk animatedly.

"When I'm six, I can be a Daisy," she said. "Not yet though because I'm five."

"Oh, what's a Daisy?"

"The second-littlest group in Girl Scouts," Pearl said, informing her. "I can't wait. My friends Kyla and Blair are gonna be in it, too. I'm so excited!"

Katniss laughed. My heart pulled in fifteen different directions. "My sister was in Girl Scouts when she was your age," Katniss said. "Not me, though. I've never been that good at making friends."

"Hmm, well, that's okay," Pearl said, optimistic as ever. "At least you have my daddy as a friend."

"Yeah," Katniss agreed halfheartedly, and I decided to make my presence known.

I stepped in the open door and saw Katniss sitting behind her desk with Pearl sideways on her lap, their noses only centimeters apart. "P, what are you doing?" I asked, trying to seem nonchalant.

She immediately looked guilty, having remembered that I told her to stay. "I got bored," she said, her voice low. "And I like Kat." When she said that, Pearl casually threw her arms around Katniss's neck, which visibly surprised her, but she hugged her back.

"Well, I got a little worried about you," I said, and then picked her up from Katniss's lap. "Come on, let's take you back. You need your rest. We don't want you to get Katniss sick."

"Sorry, daddy," she muttered, and then waved goodbye to Katniss over my shoulder. I didn't look back.

 **KATNISS**

When I went into the office every day that week, I held my bag close to my chest and kept my head down. I didn't want to see anyone, let alone Peeta, so I did my best to make myself invisible.

On Friday, much to my luck, after I passed the lobby and walked down the hallway to my office, the place was quiet. I wondered why until I passed the conference room and saw most of the bigwigs inside, having some sort of meeting that they all looked really bored to be attending. I let out a sigh of relief and made myself comfortable in my office, leaving my door open just a hair instead of all the way like I normally would. Things were different now.

I tried to concentrate on my work, which consisted mostly of me just staring at pages full of words and numbers and not computing the information that was in front of me. I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I sensed a presence at my office door, and when I looked up I saw someone standing there who I had never expected to see.

"Oh, hi, Pearl," I said, and my hands got clammy. I wiped them on my pant legs.

"Hi…" she said, a bit shyly. She was making good eye contact, though, and through that I couldn't stop staring at her gray eyes. My gray eyes.

She stood at the edge of my desk and messed with the tape dispenser, just finding things to busy herself with by being here. "What are you doing here today?"

"I'm sick," she said, and walked a little closer to me. Now, she was just inches away from my knees. "Daddy's in a meeting. I was taking a nap on his couch but I woke up."

"Well, I'm glad you came in here," I said. "It's nice to see you." She flashed me a cute little smile, then put her eyes back on the small box of paper clips that she had found.

"I throwed up in Uncle Hay's car," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh no," I said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said. "I don't feel that bad anymore. Can I sit on your lap?"

The question came out of nowhere, so I was caught a little bit off-guard. "Oh, um, sure," I stammered, and sat back in my chair to make room for her. She walked over and turned around with her back facing me, and I realized that she wanted me to pick her up and set her down on my legs instead of having to climb up herself.

I must have hesitated too long, because she said, "Can you lift me?"

I situated my hands under her armpits and then lifted her onto my lap. It was surprisingly comfortable, having her little weight on me, and I liked the feeling of it. "You smell good," I told her, and she smiled.

"That's my soap that my daddy buys for me," she said. "It's from Lush. It comes in funny shapes. You know the pink one?" I had no idea, but I nodded anyway. "That's the one I have."

"Well, it smells great. I might have to get some for myself."

"If you ask my daddy, he could get some for you," she offered, scribbling on a blank envelope with a pen she had found. "Just ask him. He will!"

I chuckled, choosing not to answer. I couldn't stop myself from studying her and marveling that this little person was one that I had created. I ran my hand down her long, blonde curls and wasn't surprised at how soft they were when I touched them; Prim's hair had felt just the same way. "Do you like my hair?" she asked. "Daddy gets the tangles out every morning. Sometimes I cry."

"It's very pretty," I said, and was surprised when I found myself getting choked up. I had missed so much of her life. She was right in front of me the whole time, just miles away, and I had missed everything. It had been what I wanted though, and what she needed. But now, five years later, how was it possible for me to feel so left out?

Her eyelashes were long, just like her father's, grazing her skin each time she blinked like a work of art. Her lips were full; pink and perfect with a delicately defined cupid's bow. If she wasn't sitting right in front of me, I would've thought she was made of porcelain. I hadn't known that a child could be so gorgeous.

"Why are you looking at me?" she asked, calling me out as she drew loopy spirals on the paper.

"I just think you're pretty, that's all," I said, and she turned to face me. Our noses were centimeters apart.

"You're pretty, too," she said, a big smile growing on her face. Her eyes twinkled as they became shrouded by her round cheeks.

"Well, that's really nice of you to say," I told her, and patted her shoulder. From that action, she leaned against my chest and rested there as she continued to draw nonsensical shapes and patterns.

"When I'm six, I can be a Daisy," she said, out of nowhere.

"Oh, what's a Daisy?" I asked. I circled my arm around her back so she could lean on it, and she did. I could hardly believe that I had my daughter, the daughter I thought I would never see again, sitting on my lap. Looking at her face in such close proximity reminded me of the day she was born when I had held her so we were nose-to-nose. It was the closest I can ever remember feeling with anyone. When I had nursed her, just that one time, I had felt a bond I knew would be impossible with any other person on this earth. She was mine.

"The second-littlest group in Girl Scouts," she continued, unaware of the existential crisis going on within my head. "I can't wait. My friends Kyla and Blair are gonna be in it, too. I'm so excited!"

I laughed. "My sister was in Girl Scouts when she was your age," I said. She was almost Pearl's exact duplicate. There were hardly any differences between them. "Not me, though. I've never been that good at making friends."

"Hmm, well, that's okay," she said, glancing at me. "At least you have my daddy as a friend."

"Yeah," I said, though I could hardly be hopeful about that anymore. I had pretty much ruined it for everyone involved, and I wasn't sure if there was a way I could fix it.

Right when Pearl was about to say something else, Peeta walked through the doorway and surprised us both. I suddenly felt like I was doing something wrong, though Pearl had been the one to seek me out.

"P, what are you doing?" he asked, and there was a smile on his lips, but not in his eyes. If he thought he was fooling me, he knew me less than I had originally thought.

"I got bored," Pearl said, slouching a bit. "And I like Kat." She leaned into me further and then threw her arms around my neck in a hug. I relished it and held her close, smelling that soap she had just finished raving about.

"Well, I got a little worried about you," Peeta said, and lifted her away from me and onto his hip. "Come on, let's take you back. You need your rest. We don't want you to get Katniss sick."

I stared down at my desk, but heard Pearl say, "Sorry, daddy." I looked back up just in time to see her wave to me as they left.

It had been hard enough all week, seeing Peeta day in and day out. But going into work today and having to interact with the daughter who was mine but who never really would be, that was downright cruel. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep subjecting myself to this type of torture; where the life I almost had was dangled in front of my face, doing nothing else but taunting me.

I gathered my things, shoving the necessary items into my bag, and then shut my computer down. I didn't know if I'd be coming back, I didn't know anything for certain at that point. All I knew was that I needed to get out there, and fast.

Hot tears pricked my eyes as I stormed down the hall, and by the time I was at the bottom of the elevator they were streaming down my cheeks. I wiped them away roughly, pushing through the glass doors of the building with blurred vision, and started power-walking towards the train. I needed to get away. I needed to be home, under my covers, hidden away from the world where nothing like this could touch me. I had never felt pain like this before; the pain of what could've been.

My breath was coming in ragged gusts, but I fought through it and picked up the pace. It wasn't a short walk to the train, and about midway through I started to openly sob. In the back of my mind, I heard quick footsteps behind me, but didn't turn around to investigate. Whoever it was would run past me and probably not even look back. Crazier things had happened in this city.

But I heard my name. And I felt a touch on my shoulder. I spun around with alarm and was taken aback to see Peeta standing there with a desperate expression on his face.

"Leave me alone," I wailed, and turned around to continue on walking. He kept his grip anchored on my shoulder, though, and spun me back around. "Please, let me go."

"Why didn't you try and find me?" he asked, cutting straight to the point. I stared deep into his eyes; the crystalline blue that showed every inch of emotion he was experiencing. "When you found out you were pregnant. Why didn't you look for me?"

Sobs cut through my voice as I spoke. "I thought you were married," I said, my voice rising.

"Oh," he said, defeated.

"I didn't want to ruin your life," I continued, throwing my hands down forcefully.

"You wouldn't have-"

"And I wasn't sure if she was yours." His eyes narrowed; once again, I could read him like a book. "The guy at the wedding…we had broken up less than a week before, and-"

"How do you know she's mine now?" he snapped.

"I _looked_ at her, Peeta," I said calmly. "I looked at her and I knew." He stayed quiet, his eyes directed down at the sidewalk. "I can find a new job. I won't be in your life – either of your lives. I shouldn't have ever stayed, I shouldn't have let it get this way, I'm sorry-"

He didn't let me talk anymore. He held my face between his hands and kissed me with all he had, and I grappled to hold onto his wrists and then kissed him back. I was still crying; I felt my tears making their way onto his skin, too, but I didn't care. My purse fell onto the sidewalk with a clunk, but neither of us noticed. He moved one hand to the back of my head to hold me securely to him, and when we broke apart, we were both staring at each other, breathless.

His eyes were glistening, then, too. "I've been wanting to do that all week," he said, licking his lips. "I'm sorry if it was out of line. I just…I can't lose you, Katniss. I want you in my life. In her life. So much went wrong in the past, and that's on both of us. Not just you, but not just me either. But...it doesn't matter anymore; all I care about is right now. And right now, I want you. And I'm really hoping that you want me, too."

I pressed my hands flat to his chest and gazed up at him with wide, watery eyes. As we looked into each other's faces, he gently moved a tendril of my hair away from my face and waited for my response. "I do," I said, and kissed him again.


	10. Epilogue

So this is it for Half of Something Else. Thank you guys so much for reading this; I worked so hard on it and you made it all worth it. I'm happy to say that I DO have another full-length story in the works, and I've already written a considerable amount. You could definitely say this is pretty much an addiction for me at this point ;)

 **KATNISS**

"You know, I hate that you made me wear this stupid ass shirt," I whispered, keeping my voice low so no one would find us out.

It was mine and Peeta's wedding day, and we had found a discreet hallway to meet up before the craziness began. Prim, Madge, and Johanna were in my dressing room, probably searching for me. They'd be furious once they realized I'd snuck away, but I couldn't find it within myself to care. I needed to see him.

"Oh, be quiet," Peeta said, skimming his hands around my waist to pull me close. "You like it."

"It's stupid," I insisted, and looked down at it. I was wearing a white V-neck with the words 'bride-to-be' printed on it in loopy cursive. Peeta was wearing the black, groom's version.

"Blame your sister, then," he said, pressing his forehead against mine. "You would've been able to win me over eventually."

"Yeah, with sexual favors," I said suggestively, walking my fingers up his chest. "She's a bitch."

"She loves you."

"If she loved me, she wouldn't make me wear this." He threw his head back and laughed, and then ran his hands gently over my done-up hair. "You're probably not even supposed to be seeing me right now," I said. "It's bad luck or something."

"What's the worst that could happen?" he asked. "We've been through some crazy shit already." He bent his knees and put his fists up. "I'll take whatever life has to throw at us."

"You're so fucking dumb," I groaned, rolling my eyes and laughing.

"Yet you can't wait to be married to me," he said, and kissed me over and over again.

"Katniss? Katniss?" Both of our heads turned towards the end of the hallway, where the voice was coming from.

"Shit," I hissed, then grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt and gave him one more long, lasting kiss. "I have to go."

"I'll see you at the altar," he said.

As I hurried towards the voice, I looked back over my shoulder and grinned. "I'll be the one in the white dress."

I ran into Prim once I turned the corner, and she looked relieved to see me. "Jesus, there you are." She adjusted her daughter on her hip, my niece, 14-month-old Maeve. "We've been looking for you."

"I just got…lost," I said, and took Maeve from her mother to rest on my hip instead. "Hi, baby girl!" I cooed, putting my face close to hers.

"Lost with Peeta you mean?" Prim asked. "Don't even try me, Katniss. Once you get that dress on, I swear to god, if you two sneak off again…"

"We won't, we won't," I said, laughing. "Jeez, _mom_."

"It's tradition," she insisted, not even cracking a smile at my joke. She was more nervous today than I was. "It matters. He can't see you in that dress until you walk down the aisle."

"I know, I know, I know," I said, then looked at my niece again. "Your mama's being a dictator. You hear me? A little dictator! Thinking she can boss me around. Just who does she think she is? Who does she think raised her?"

I glanced at my sister, and saw her fighting a smile. My job was done, that was all I needed to see.

We got back in the dressing room where Pearl was sitting on an ornate armchair getting her face touched up by Madge. "Not too much," I called out. "She's seven."

Pearl's eyes opened and she jumped off the chair. "Mama!" She hurried over to me and threw her arms around my waist, hugging me tight and resting her head against my stomach. I took one arm away from Maeve and used it to smooth down Pearl's bouncy, golden curls that had been done up immaculately for today.

"Hi, my beautiful girl," I said.

"Did you go find Daddy?" she asked, crossing her arms and pretending to scold me. "Auntie Prim said that's where you went."

"No idea what you're talking about," I pretended, and we giggled together. "Go let Madge finish you up, then it's my turn."

I sat next to Madge as she did my daughter's makeup, watching the brush glide over Pearl's calm, serene face. After mine and Peeta's relationship was solidified, it wasn't that hard to tell Pearl all that she needed to know. She was whip-smart, so she understood it quicker than we had even anticipated. It was like we had never spent any time apart. It was like we had been a family all along, and now we were finally going to make it official.

I couldn't be more thankful that I was bearing witness to her growing up. She had changed so much just from the day I met her that it made my heart ache to think of how much I had missed prior. When I got sad about it, though, Peeta reminded me just how much time was yet to come.

She had just turned seven. She could tie her shoes, ride a two-wheeled bike, and count way past a hundred, but still wanted a story and countless kisses at bedtime. I'd do anything to hold onto this phase forever. I wished that I could.

When it was my turn to get my makeup done, Prim took Maeve and Pearl sat next to me with her fingers entwined in my own. "You're so pretty, mommy," she whispered, resting her head on my upper arm. I smiled softly and, squeezing her hand, just enjoyed the feeling of her next to me. Once I was done and Madge moved onto Prim, I sat Pearl on my lap facing towards me and held her face in my hands. For a moment, I just looked at her and marveled at the beauty that Peeta and I had brought onto this earth, accidentally all those years ago, proven by a DNA test we wasted no time in getting. "I'm so glad I have you," I said, and kissed her forehead. "You know how much I love you?"

"Lots?" she giggled, and then threw her arms around my neck. "You're gonna be mine forever now," she told me.

When I put my dress on, I stood in front of the floor-length mirror and stared at myself as my troupe of girls gathered around me. The dress hadn't taken long to pick out; it stuck out to me from the very beginning. It was long-sleeved with lace detailing on the chest and shoulders, with a long trail of pearl buttons down my spine. It pulled into my waist just perfectly, and with my hair tucked up into a brunette up-do behind my head, it contrasted beautifully. I never knew I could be a bride like this; I hardly felt like myself. To top it all off, around my neck I had on a delicate string of pearls, matching my daughter's. It was a gift that Peeta had given us just days before.

"Mommy, you're a princess," Pearl said, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

"You really are," Prim echoed, bouncing Maeve, who had on a dark green flower girl dress that matched Pearl's. Prim, Madge and Johanna had on dark green as well, in all different styles.

"Of course you clean up nice," Johanna said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Why else would we be friends with you?"

Madge scoffed. "Are you ready, Katniss?"

I smiled at myself at the mirror, and then at all of them. "Of course I am."

We made our way out of the dressing room and into the hall, where I could sense the people waiting for us to arrive. I knelt down to my daughter and gave her a kiss, then said, "I love you so much. You look so pretty, P. Daddy can't wait to see you."

"I love you, mommy," she responded, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going to be the best flower girl ever."

The music started, and Pearl pulled Maeve along in a red wagon as they both dropped white flower petals along the aisle. I heard a chorus of awws as they came down; I knew everyone would be enamored with how adorable they both were. They were Everdeens. Of course they were adorable.

I wrung my hands, as it seemed to take forever that those two went down the aisle. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around to see Haymitch standing there with a blush on his cheeks, if I wasn't mistaken.

"Just wanted to tell you that you got a good one," he said gruffly, clearing his throat. "You kids look nice. You'll be happy together. If you ever need anything, well, you know, don't call too much, but… I'm around. You know that."

"Yes, I know that," I said, giving him a hug around his neck and a kiss on the cheek. Over the last two years or so, I'd gotten to know Peeta's friends well and he mine. "Thank you, Haymitch."

"Don't mention it," he said.

Before taking Johanna's arm to walk down the aisle, Cato gave me a resounding punch in the arm. "You look hot, Everdeen," he said, and I punched him back, equally as hard.

"Dig through the Dumpster to find your tux, ass hat?" I asked, a smile inching its way onto my face. "You're still a douche. Just a douche in a tux."

"Hey, if the shoe fits," he said.

"Barely," I retorted. "Fat ass."

"Please, move your fat ass down the aisle, then!" Prim insisted, pushing Cato by the shoulders in the direction of the doors. She looked at me with narrowed blue eyes, and I busted up laughing.

Next was Finnick and Madge, and Madge gave me a kiss on the cheek before taking Finnick's arm. "I'm so happy for you," she said. "And so proud of you. You're beautiful, Katniss. He is so lucky."

"If he hadn't snatched you up first, I would have," Finnick said, out of the side of his mouth.

"Shut the fuck up," I said, and then gave them each a hug before they walked through the doors.

Now, the only people left were Haymitch, Prim and me. Prim was walking me down the aisle, so Haymitch walked down by himself after giving me one last wink, and then it was just Prim and I alone, reminiscent of the many years where all we had was each other.

I looked over at her and saw her dabbing at her eyes with an ivory handkerchief. "Oh, Prim," I said, taking her hand. "Don't cry."

"Can't help it," she said. "We've both come so far. You walked me down the aisle, and now I'm walking you. After all this… fucked up life stuff we've gone through…"

"We still have each other, little duck," I said. "We always will."

I hugged her and she rested her head in the crook between my neck and shoulder, just like she always had. "I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," I said.

"Let's walk down this aisle."

The doors opened wide and everyone stood up. So many pairs of eyes were on me, but I only cared about one.

I saw him standing at the altar, looking picturesque in his tuxedo and perfectly styled hair. Even from where I stood on the other side of the room, I could see that he was crying. It made me well up, too, but I tried to keep my composure after remembering all the work that Madge had done on my makeup.

Everything sounded like I was underwater. I could feel Prim's grip on my arm, but just barely. It felt like I was floating down the aisle towards him, towards the rest of my life. Before this, I had always thought that marriage and weddings were stupid. Now, seeing Peeta's face among the crowd, I realized that I just hadn't found the right person.

He was looking at me like I was the sun. Like he had never seen anything more beautiful. As we locked eyes, I mouthed, "Hi," and gave him a tiny wave.

Through his tears, he mouthed it back.

Once I arrived at the altar, Prim squeezed my shoulders and gave me one last soft kiss on the cheek. I handed her my bouquet, and then locked eyes with Pearl. Before standing in front of her father, I knelt down and gave her a hug and a kiss, and said, "Thank you."

She thought I was thanking her for how much she'd helped out today, but really I was thanking her for so much more.

As the officiator began to speak, I joined hands with Peeta and met his eyes. We both smiled, tuning out whatever words that were being said just inches away from us, and focused on each other.

For the first time in my life, I had everything. With my hands secured in Peeta's firm grasp, I realized that I couldn't ask for anything more.

Once I heard our names, I jolted back into reality. "The bride and groom have prepared their own vows. Katniss, Peeta, would you like to share those?" We nodded. "Peeta, go ahead."

I waited for him to pull out a piece of paper, but he didn't. Of course he didn't.

He squeezed my hands, and by the way he was looking into my eyes, it made me feel like I was the only person in the room. "Katniss," he said, and warmth flooded throughout my entire body. "When I met you, I had no idea how important you would be to me. The way we met wasn't traditional…by any means. Nothing we've done has been traditional, but you've already given me the greatest gift I could've asked for. I fell in love with you even more when you became Pearl's mother, and this life isn't something I would want to share with anyone else. Just know that we're in this for the long haul now; I'll always stay with you when you need me, make you cheese buns whenever you want them, and be the husband that you deserve. I love you. I've never felt anything more real than what I feel for you."

I pressed my lips together and held back tears. I turned halfway around and reached my hand out, and Prim handed me a folded-up piece of paper that I had written my script on. "Not quite as good as him," I told the audience, and they all chuckled. "Peeta," I began. "When we met for the second time, you didn't know it, but you already had half of me. I didn't know it, either. It took us a long time to figure it out, and when we did, I wasn't sure what was going to happen to us. Even the most optimistic part of me would have never pictured this. When I'm in a bad mood, you help me see the bright side. When you get too idealistic, I bring you down to earth. We complement each other and compliment each other, too." I smiled. "You are so kind and genuine, and I've never met anyone who is so pure in their intentions. You are a wonderful father to our little girl, and I know you'll be a wonderful husband, too. You've kept half of me safe for seven years now, and now I want to give you half of something else." I took in a deep breath and looked up from my paper into his eyes. "Between you and Pearl, you two have my whole heart. And I can't wait to be your wife."

We exchanged the rings presented to us and slipped them onto each other's fingers. The weight, alongside my engagement ring, felt substantial and comforting. Like I had proof of this perfect moment, this perfect day.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiator said, and Peeta and I grinned at each other. My face hurt from all the smiling I was doing. "Peeta, you may kiss your bride."

With his arms tight around my lower back, we shared our first kiss as a married couple. I could hear everyone cheering, but it felt like they were far, far away, and it was just Peeta and me in that moment. When we broke away, our noses stayed touching and our eyes stayed locked. "I love you," he whispered.

I walked on air for the whole night, getting hugs and kisses on the cheek from distant friends and family members and smiling uncontrollably. We hardly had a chance to sit and breathe, but not a single part of me wanted to stop or slow down.

I was talking with Prim when the microphone clicked on. "Now, if you'd welcome the newlyweds to the stage…"

Interrupting the DJ was the sound of everyone clinking their glasses. Peeta and I met eyes and, because it was one of the few times we'd been separated all night, crossed the floor to each other so we could kiss. "Let's give the crowd what they want…" he said, pretending it was such a chore.

I took his chin in one hand and kissed him theatrically, which got a big cheer out of everyone.

"If you'll welcome the newlyweds to the dance floor," the DJ continued, sounding cheerful. "It's time for the first dance."

Peeta grabbed my hand and we walked to the blonde wooded, shiny dance floor together as the sound of "So Close" by Jon McLaughlin played. He held my body close and though I knew everyone was watching us, I couldn't feel anyone's eyes but his.

I clasped my hands at the back of his neck and looked up into his face, not saying anything because I didn't need to. I smiled softly, and he took one hand away from my back and ran it down my cheek, then kissed me slowly. Our bodies swayed to the fluid music, and as it went on, I rested my head on his chest and let the slow beat take us.

His arms were the only place that I wanted to be.

When the song slowed and finished, it bled directly into a faster-paced one. "My Girl" by the Temptations came on, and I lifted my head up and smiled at him. We started dancing faster, and then I felt a tug on my skirt. I looked down and saw Pearl there, grinning up at the both of us.

"Can I dance, too?" she asked, and I picked her up. I held her on my hip and with one of Peeta's arms still wrapped around my waist, and we danced until the night got away from us. And after that, I promised myself I'd never let anything that special get away from me again.


End file.
